Best Served Hot
by figaro2
Summary: The Master is out for revenge against Jack for interfering in his plans.
1. Chapter 1

In the Welsh countryside about an hour's drive from Cardiff, down a narrow country lane, there stood a typical rural cottage. It had been on the market about a year before, and had been bought by a private company. Locals had seen much comings and goings of workmen doing renovations, though mostly interior work they assumed, as the exterior remained much the same, barring a sophisticated security system that included external sensors. The locals waited for someone to move in, but apart from occasional visitors who seemed to be different each time and only stayed for a day or two, no one did. It was assumed the cottage was serving as a corporate retreat for the company that had purchased it.

Mid November. Temperatures were dropping, and most mornings were accompanied by frost. On this particular morning an icy downpour drummed at the roof and windows of the cottage. Inside, however, due to expensive insulation the noise was minimal. A gas fire warmed a comfortable living room, and the occupants of the two armchairs that were arranged in front of it. Jack sat in one, seemingly relaxed, but his eyes never left the other chair.

Ianto occupied the second chair, in dressing gown and pyjamas covered in a blanket. His sunken eyes stared at nothing in particular, and his thin scarred hands lay limply in his lap. Jack watched him, considering. In the nine days since their arrival, Ianto hadn't spoken. He had submitted to the medical treatment provided and to Jack's care, except in one regard. He would not accept affection, shied away if Jack got too close. Jack couldn't help but feel daunted by the damage he was seeing, but knew he could not give up.

So, trying not to hope too much, he asked the same question he had asked every day since their arrival, every morning after breakfast. "How are you feeling today?"

He had become so accustomed to no answer that he almost missed it when it came, as it was the barest whisper. "Confused."

Jack started, curbing his delight with an effort. Calm, stay calm, he told himself, just as if we'd been talking all along. "What are you confused about?"

Ianto still hadn't looked at him. "Why … are you doing this?"

Jack considered the various possible answers to that question, and finally said, "Because I want you to be well."

"You should hate me."

Jack had known this reaction was a possibility, and after a few moments hesitation decided to challenge it. "Why would I hate you?"

"I betrayed you."

"Oh? How'd you do that?" That's it, Jack thought suddenly, as Ianto looked at him for the first time. Get angry.

"You want me to spell it out?" Ianto snarled. "Is that what you've been waiting for? You want me to hear my own voice say it?" He threw the blanket aside and got up from the chair. "I poisoned you, Jack! I made you sick. I made you suffer. You'd still be sick if it weren't for the Doctor. It's my fault, all of it!" He screamed in Jack's face. "I betrayed you!"

All Jack wanted to do was put his arms around him, but he forced himself to stay still. "That's him talking," he said. "Not you."

Ianto shook his head, and fiercely wiped away tears. "Is this your idea of tormenting me, is that it? Make me confess? Well, I've confessed. What next? You want to hurt me? Punch me? Kick me? Beat me?"

He paused, breathing hard, and then to Jack's horror suddenly knelt down on the floor, bowing low to the ground. Jack wasn't sure later whether it was the act itself that had upset him or the familiarity of long practice with which Ianto performed the move. "Go ahead!" he whispered bitterly, his voice full of self-disgust. "I deserve it."

Jack got up and raised him from the floor, trying not to notice the way his friend flinched when he touched him, trying not to notice the feel of bones under skin. "For God's sake, Yan," he said gently, "I'm not going to hurt you." He led him carefully back over to his chair, and spread the blanket back over him, immediately withdrawing to his own chair to give him space. "Do you want me to tell you what really happened?"

Ianto pulled his feet up off the floor, curling into a ball and wrapping the blanket more tightly around him. "I know what happened."

"No you don't," Jack told him. "Yan .. he lied to you. Everything he said was a lie. I'm going to tell you what really happened, alright?"

Ianto shrugged, looking at the floor. Jack decided he would take this as an invitation to continue, and began.


	2. Chapter 2

(The first time – Day 1).

"Good morning, sir," said Ianto, placing a steaming mug of coffee on Jack's desk.

"Morning, Ianto," said Jack. "Looking good this morning." His eyes roamed over Ianto appreciatively.

Ianto frowned at him slightly. "Umm … Jack, what's wrong with your voice? Sounds kind of … husky."

"Don't you mean sexy?" smirked Jack.

"No," said Ianto. "I mean husky."

Jack shrugged. "Must be those cold Cardiff mornings. Northing your coffee won't cure." He took a sip, and grinned.

(Day 3)

"Well, you can't come on the weevil hunt, you know," said Gwen.

"No, he'll scare off the weevil with his coughing," commented Owen.

"Thank you, that thought had occurred to me," said Jack sarcastically.

"Vitamin C and Echinacea," said Tosh. "That'll clear your cold right up."

"Hot lemon and honey," suggested Gwen.

"I could get you some cough syrup at the chemist," offered Ianto. Jack wondered briefly why he was looking so anxious.

"Enough with the cold remedies!" he rasped. He paused, and then said into the sudden silence, "Go catch the weevil. Keep me posted." He went back into his office, and they could hear him coughing as they headed for the exit.

"Nice to know Mr Immortality can do something normal like catch a cold," sniped Owen, but he cast a thoughtful look towards the office as he left.

(Day 7)

Owen, Gwen and Tosh entered the Hub together in the morning, to meet Ianto coming out of Jack's office. "How's Jack?" Owen asked.

"I don't know," said Ianto, unusually agitated. "I can't find him."

"Have you checked his quarters?" asked Gwen. "Sorry, stupid question," she added, as Ianto rolled his eyes.

Tosh went to her terminal and started to bring up internal camera views. "Maybe he just stepped out," she suggested.

"He wasn't well enough to step out!" retorted Ianto.

"Are you sure this is just the flu?" Gwen asked Owen.

"I don't have xray vision, Gwen!" said Owen acerbically. "It's a bit hard to accurately diagnose someone who'll barely let you near long enough to take his temperature." He shrugged. "It looks like flu."

"I've found him," said Tosh suddenly. "Owen, he's collapsed! Central archives." Owen and Ianto were already heading for the door, and Gwen and Tosh followed.

(Day 10)

Gwen sat next to Jack's bed, watching him helplessly. Ianto paced, and Tosh stood leaning against the wall. Owen was still in the lab performing tests.

An oxygen mask covered the lower part of Jack's face, and a drip was inserted in his arm. He was running a very high temperature, had been unable to eat and had been mostly unaware of his surroundings for the past day.

"I think he's dying," said Gwen.

"Of course that may be …" Tosh broke off suddenly.

"A good thing," finished Ianto. "Maybe. Doesn't make it any easier."

Owen entered the room at that moment, and they all looked around eagerly, but the dispirited look on his face told its own story. "I've got some more tests running," he said, faintly apologetic.

"We know you're doing your best," said Gwen.

"He'll probably be dead within the hour, and I have no idea why!" Owen looked angry, as if the illness was personally offending him.

"I'm sure he appreciates everything you've done," said Tosh.

They were all silent for a moment, listening to Jack's increasingly laboured breathing. "Wish it were over," said Ianto.

"We've … seen him die before," offered Tosh, trying to comfort.

"Not like this," said Gwen, in tears. "Not so …"

"Slow," said Ianto, who had stopped pacing and now stood at the other side of the bed. He took Jack's hand in his. "Sorry," he whispered.

(The second time. Day 1).

The Hub doors opened on laughter. "Did you see their faces?" laughed Gwen. "They looked so crestfallen."

"I felt a bit sorry for them," admitted Tosh. "Imagine coming all this way and then discovering this planet isn't inhabited by … " She broke off and started to giggle.

"Smurfs!" choked Owen, setting everyone off again.

"Hey, they never invented TV!" chuckled Jack. "They have no tradition for fantasy. It just … didn't occur to them."

Ianto looked sideways at him, but before he could speak, Jack said, "OK, back to work, people. Owen, can I see you a moment?"

"Sure," said Owen, and followed him, still sniggering.

In Jack's office, Jack sat down, and the next thing he said wiped the smile off Owen's face. "I have a sore throat."

(Day 4)

"Found it!" said Owen, coming into the med unit. He stopped short. "Who gave you that laptop? Was it Ianto?"

"No," Jack replied in a whisper. "He refused, so I sweet talked Tosh." He coughed. "The others back yet?"

"No," said Owen, "but I just spoke to Gwen, and everything's fine." He held out his hand. "Hand it over. You're supposed to be resting, not working."

Jack sighed, and shut the laptop. "Can't think anyway." As Owen removed it, he leaned back against the pillows and shut his eyes for a moment. "Hang on," he said, and opened his eyes again. "Found what?"

"You have a virus," said Owen.

"You don't say," said Jack drily.

"But not just any virus," Owen continued. "It's like nothing I've ever seen. I don't understand the way it works. Viruses want to survive. When a virus kills, it's usually because the host is not strong. Doesn't apply in your case. The virus should not survive your death and resurrection. Nothing it does makes sense." He paused. "I've sent details to Martha." He forestalled Jack's objection. "I wanted to see if Unit had seen anything like it. I didn't tell her where it came from."

"You can if you want," said Jack. "She'd kill me if I kept this from her."

Owen checked Jack's temperature. "Still climbing."

"Are you telling me I'm hot, Owen?" Jack tried to flirt, then decided it was too much effort, and shut his eyes wearily.

"Less flirting, more sleeping," Owen suggested.

(Day 6)

"That clinches it then," said Owen. "It's definitely alien."

"But how did he catch it?" Martha said, puzzled. "If it came from one of the aliens you've been in touch with, why isn't anyone else sick? He'd be the last one to get sick, not the first."

Owen shrugged. "I've taken blood from everyone else, and the tests are running now. Could be dormant, for some reason. God, we might all have it."

(Day 7)

"Owen," called Martha. "You'd better look at this. Owen?"

Owen was frowning at a computer screen. "Great!" he fumed, before realising Martha was speaking to him. "Hmm, sorry, what?"

"There was something funny about this virus I couldn't work out," she said, "so I looked a little closer." She pointed at her screen as Owen joined her.

He frowned. "It's DNA."

Martha nodded. "It's Jack's DNA. Owen, this virus is manufactured. It's been made for Jack."

"I've just found it in Ianto's blood," said Owen. "Dormant, which is understandable now. Jack might have passed it on before he got sick. Or whoever did this managed to infect Ianto and get it to Jack that way."

"We'd better talk to him," said Martha. They passed Gwen and Tosh in the main Hub, working on a case, and found Ianto in the med unit, pacing again.

"Ianto," said Owen, "we found something, mate, we need to ask you about."

Ianto turned, looking distracted. " … sure, what?"

Owen was sidetracked by a beeping on one of the machines where Jack lay unconscious, and went to check it. "It's going faster this time," he murmured.

"We've found two things," said Martha. "The virus is manufactured, and it's also in you, dormant." Ianto stared at her, and she added, "You're not going to get sick. This virus has been engineered for Jack, and we don't know how it was introduced. Do you remember any kind of … I don't know, incident? Any strangers accosting you, anything?"

Owen was still examining the monitors, and was suddenly startled by a gunshot. He whirled around, in time to catch Martha, who had screamed and fallen back into his arms. A blood stain was spreading out on her left leg.

"Ianto!" Owen shouted, but Ianto was already gone. Owen hit the intercom. "Gwen! Tosh! Stop Ianto!" He helped Martha sit down, and ripped open her trouser leg, exposing the wound.

"He shot me!" she gasped. "His face went … kind of blank, and suddenly he pulled a gun and shot me!"

At that moment all the lights and power went out. Emergency lighting flickered on a moment later. "Gwen!" Owen shouted. "Tosh!"

Seconds later there were footsteps on the stairs, and Gwen appeared. "What the hell happened?" she demanded, even as she came forward to help Owen get Martha to a bed. "Ianto pointed a gun at us, and triggered an emergency lockdown."

"Where is he?"

"Gone," she said. "Tosh is trying to work out what he's done."

"Owen," Martha said. "Why'd he shoot me in the leg?"

"He's gone mental?" Owen guessed.

"No, Owen, think. He could have killed me if he wanted to. He was right in front of me and I wasn't expecting anything. It wasn't a stray shot, he deliberately angled down."

Owen shrugged. "It's a flesh wound. You'll be ok."

He looked around, suddenly aware of the silence. He sighed, and the others realised what he was looking at. Jack was no longer breathing.

"Why is this happening?" Gwen asked in bewilderment.

"God knows," said Owen.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack watched Ianto, his head lowered, his body tense, his expression … so ashamed. "She's alright, you know. Martha. It was just a flesh wound. Healed up beautifully."

Ianto looked up hesitantly, meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry!" He ducked his head again, his body rocking slightly. "So so sorry!"

"I know you are," said Jack. "What I don't know is how this all started. Can you tell me?"

Ianto looked away, and Jack wondered for a moment if he was going to refuse to speak. But then he said, "You don't think you might be going about your business, perfectly normal business I mean, not Torchwood business, no life changing decisions, just simple, normal, everyday business and suddenly … everything falls apart." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I only went out for a paper." Jack watched him unconsciously wringing his hands, and didn't speak. "I had a day off," Ianto continued. "I went for a paper. No reason to go armed. It was jl;kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk4rust a bloody paper … and there he was, on the street, standing right in front of me, grinning at me like we're best friends. I should have … I don't know, I don't know what he did … suddenly I'm waking up and it's somewhere else."

Ianto's eyes snapped open, and he looked around wildly. He was strapped to a bench, and the only light in the room was directly over his head, rendering the rest of the space he was in too dark to see. He strained at the straps to no avail, which didn't really surprise him but he had to check.

He heard a noise in the darkness. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap. "Ianto Jones!" intoned a voice theatrically from the shadows. "Prepare to meet your Master!" The Master popped up out of the darkness. "Good entrance, huh?" he chirped, leaning against the edge of the bench.

Ianto, fully well aware he was in more danger than he'd possibly ever been before in his life, decided to humour the deranged alien. "Wonderful!" he said, as enthusiastically as he could manage.

"Glad you enjoyed," said the Master conversationally. He strolled slowly up the side of the bench, trailing his fingers over Ianto's body. Ianto tried not to shudder. "I need your help."

"Oh," said Ianto. "Umm .. okay. What would you like me to do?"

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask you yet," said the Master. "You know what I think? I think you're humouring me. I think my Doctor and his pestilential freak have been telling you stories about the mean old Master and all the wicked things he did to them. I think they told you I'm crazy." He leaned so close that Ianto could feel his breath and whispered, "Do you think I'm crazy, Ianto Jones?"

"Crazy's all relative," said Ianto, trying to keep his voice steady. "You seem normal enough to me."

The Master smiled. "I think you're lying," he continued to whisper. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to tell lies?" He straightened up and continued in a normal voice. "But that's a matter we can address at another time." He disappeared into the darkness, returning shortly with a metal trolley, on which lay two syringes. The Master picked one up. "Guess what this is?" he said in an excited voice.

Ianto, realising his attempts to humour the Master were falling on deaf ears, gave us. "It's a syringe," he said drily.

The Master chuckled. "So it is. And inside the syringe is a virus. A virus I made with my own two hands, as a present, for the freak. I'm going to inject it into you, Ianto Jones, and the next time you fuck the freak he'll get what's coming to him." He immediately stuck the needle into Ianto's arm, the sleeve of his shirt having been rolled up already. Ianto didn't have time to react before it was all over, and could only stare at him, horrified. "Oh, don't worry," said the Master soothingly. "It's completely harmless to you." He turned back to the trolley, dropping the syringe onto it, and picking up the other. "What's inside syringe number two? Because of course you're thinking, 'I'll deny myself the pleasures of my beloved Captain to save his life. I'll tell him he's in danger. We'll beat the wicked Master.'" He chuckled delightedly. "But you see, all you're going to do is precisely what I tell you." He injected the second drug. "I'll give that a little time to take effect." He disappeared into the darkness.

Ianto pulled desperately at the straps, looking around for some way to get free, but was forced to concede he was completely helpless. He waited for the drug he'd been given to take effect, make him feel dizzy or otherwise different, but he still felt exactly the same when the Master returned, wheeling a chair out of the darkness, and making himself comfortable.

"Right," he said. "Let's get started, shall we?" He smiled at Ianto in a fatherly way. "You are to have unprotected sexual relations with Jack Harkness the very next time he suggests it. You are to set up a hub lockdown that you will be able to trigger remotely. You will carry a gun at all times. You will be advised at some point by a medical person that you are infected with the virus, and questioned about your activities. These questions will come from either Owen Harper or," the Master paused, and smiled. "Martha Jones. When this happens, you are to draw your gun and shoot Dr Jones if she is present, or Dr Harper if she is not, and leave the Hub immediately, triggering the lockdown. Then you are to drop the gun and proceed, unarmed, to 57 Coglan St, enter the building and wait. You will be unable to reveal what is happening either by word or any other means of communication to any person. You are incapable of resisting my instructions in any way." He leaned back with a self-satisfied smirk. "Who needs telepathy?"

"He was right," said Ianto in a small voice. "I couldn't resist. I'm sorry, Jack, I tried, I really tried …"

"I know you tried," Jack responded, "because you did find the one flaw, didn't you?"

Ianto nodded slowly. "Martha. He meant me to kill her."

"He said shoot, not kill," said Jack. "So all you were compelled to do was put a bullet in her. It was a good shot." He paused. "When did all this happen?"

"A week before you first got sick." At this point Ianto suddenly seemed to notice for the first time his wringing hands, and stilled them with an effort.

"We can talk more later," said Jack, considering Ianto had had enough for the moment. "And I'm sorry too."

Ianto looked surprised. "For what?"

"Not noticing something was wrong."

Ianto shook his head. "How could you?"

"You're supposed to notice when someone you love is in trouble," said Jack.

Ianto shook his head again. "It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either." Ianto gave a tentative smile, the first Jack had seen. It's a beginning, he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack walked slowly across the Plass, Tosh and Gwen following. He coughed, painfully aware of his weakness, the virus once again taking hold, and fretted that it was preventing him doing what was needed.

They had been out all night, scouring the streets looking for Ianto. They had quickly located his car on Coglan Street, outside an empty warehouse, but there was no sign of his presence there or anywhere else. His gun had been dropped on the ground outside the Hub doors, and his phone was left in his car. He had seemingly vanished off the face of the earth.

Jack didn't for a moment believe Ianto was willingly involved in what was happening, and he knew of many techniques that would be able to coerce his cooperation, most of them not very pleasant. What was frightening him most of all was that, assuming the attack on him was the objective, Ianto was surely now expendable, and was quite possibly dead. He pushed the thought away. He didn't want to think about it.

"Jack, we can keep looking," said Gwen anxiously from behind him. "You need to be resting, and let Owen and Martha help you."

He stopped, and turned slowly. It was an effort to frame his thoughts into communication. He never usually got tired like this, and he figured wryly that he would be a lot more sympathetic when the others got worn out in future. "I don't know where to look," he admitted. "Don't know what else to do." He coughed. "He wouldn't do this."

They each took an arm. "We know," reassured Tosh. "We'll keep looking. Come on." They guided him towards the Tourist Office entrance. He thought fleetingly there was a comment about having a beautiful lady on each arm that was going begging, but he couldn't quite put the thought together and soon gave up the attempt.

As they handed him over to Owen, Jack said, "Go home. Get some rest." He forestalled their objections. "We have no leads. It's alright."

Back in the med unit, he watched listlessly as Owen moved around, checking equipment. "Torchwood budget should spring for a nurse," Owen complained. "This isn't really my thing."

He's scared, Jack thought. They all are. Make an effort, Jack. He smirked. "Really? You do it so well." He leaned back against the pillows. "I am getting so tired of this room. We should redecorate."

"That's definitely not my thing," retorted Owen. He hesitated. "Jack, have you been sick before? I mean, since …"

"Oh yeah," said Jack. "Several times. Dengi fever was a bitch."

Owen raised an eyebrow. "You scare me, Harkness."

Jack chuckled, then coughed. "Where's Martha?"

"Sick of my company already?" enquired Owen.

"Martha's better looking," grinned Jack.

"No arguments there. She's at her hotel, getting some rest."

"Have you slept?"

"Mmm," said Owen evasively.

"Owen," said Jack authoritatively. "Get some rest."

Owen finally nodded reluctantly. "I'll lie down on the couch for a bit." He paused. "Look, I know you don't need reassuring from me, but for what it's worth, teaboy might be a bit neurotic, but he'd die for you. He's not involved in this, not by choice."

"Thank you," said Jack. He shut his eyes, and tried not to think about Ianto dead or dying somewhere.

Two days later, Martha and Owen were sitting in the lab in silence. Owen broke the silence first. "You've got to do it."

"I know," she replied. "Jack's not going to like us bothering him."

Owen shrugged. "We're doctors. We're requesting a … specialist consult in the best interest of our patients." He paused. "Don't you think he'd want to be told?"

"You're right," said Martha, picking up the phone and dialling. "Voicemail," she sighed, "naturally." She waited, and then spoke. "Doctor, it's Martha. Jack needs you. Please come to Cardiff as soon as you can." She hung up.

Owen frowned. "Shouldn't you have explained the problem?"

"No need," she said. "He'll come."

"But when?" retorted Owen. "If he's off saving somebody or other …"

The sound of the TARDIS filled the air. Martha grinned. "Time machine, remember?"

They headed out into the main area of the Hub. "Did you call him?" asked Gwen.

"We had to," said Owen, as the TARDIS door opened.

"Hello," said the Doctor cheerily. "Martha called?" He caught sight of her. "Why are you limping?"

"It doesn't matter," said Martha. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you." She hugged him.

He returned the embrace, as he considered the tired and worried faces around him. "I think you'd better tell me what's wrong."

Jack opened his eyes to Martha's touch. "Hey," he whispered. "I was dreaming. Thought I heard the TAR …" He broke off as he saw the Doctor. "Doc? What … oh, did they call you?"

"Yes they called me," said the Doctor, "and quite right too." He laid a hand on Jack's forehead, assessing his temperature with a touch. "How are you, Jack?"

"Been better," admitted Jack, and coughed. "Apparently someone's out to get me."

"Angry spouse?" suggested the Doctor.

Jack smiled. "Funny." He gulped in some air. "Doc … Ianto …"

"I know," said the Doctor. "I don't want you to worry. Right now, you need to sleep." He touched fingers to each side of Jack's forehead, and his eyes immediately closed. The Doctor straightened up and turned to the others, deadly serious. "Let's see this virus."

In the lab Owen called up a three dimensional representation of the virus on a computer screen, and the Doctor examined it with interest. He whistled. "That is a beautiful piece of work."

"That beautiful piece of work is killing Jack over and over," Martha reminded him.

"Yes," said the Doctor. "If you wanted to kill someone who couldn't be killed, you might have to settle for the next best thing. So who wants to kill Jack?"

"Umm … lots of people," said Owen.

"With the technology and expertise to make that?" The Doctor tapped the screen. "That's not from this time or place."

"Can you help?" said Martha.

"I hope so," said the Doctor. "But first … do you have any more of the blood you took from Ianto?"

Owen and Martha looked at each other, puzzled. "Yes," said Owen.

"Good," said the Doctor. "Back in a bit." He headed for the TARDIS.

"I've got some news for you," said the Doctor in the med unit, much later.

Jack's temperature was rising, and his face was damp with sweat. "News," he whispered. "Mm?"

"I've been looking at Ianto's blood sample, and I found something." He recited a long complicated chemical formula.

"I would have thought it couldn't exist if I hadn't seen it," Owen commented. "So we weren't even looking for it."

"And we had no idea what it was, of course," added Martha.

Jack was looking at the Doctor, confused. He pulled the oxygen mask off. "Program … how…?"

The Doctor gently replaced the mask. "I'll find out, I promise."

"Program?" queried Martha.

"What it says," said the Doctor. "You inject someone with that, and you can make them do whatever you want. Essentially you can program them like a computer, and they cannot resist."

"To shoot people and infect them with a deadly virus?" said Martha.

The Doctor nodded, and looked at Jack. "I know you hadn't stopped believing in him, but I thought you'd want to know."

"Thank you," whispered Jack.

"Where does this 'Program' come from?" asked Owen as they returned to the lab.

"At least five centuries in the future." He looked at both of them. "Go home. Get some rest. I'll keep an eye on him."

He persuaded them to leave finally, and sat down in the lab, staring at the virus still displayed on the screen. He was starting to have a very uneasy feeling about who was involved. The virus had to have been created by a brilliant scientist with expertise and access to future technology, access to Jack's DNA, knowledge of Jack's unique condition, and a reason to hate him. That narrowed the list considerably. Add to that the use to which Ianto had been put, which was purely malicious, and it was virtually confirmed as far as the Doctor could see. The Master was back. Again. And what has he done with Ianto? the Doctor wondered. Why does he want him? That was one thing he couldn't understand.


	5. Chapter 5

Ianto, sitting in an armchair reading, was suddenly aware of a hand on his shoulder, and flinched, dropping the book.

"Sorry," said Jack apologetically, picking it up. "Didn't mean to startle you. Good book?"

Ianto shrugged. "It's … hard to concentrate." Jack nodded as he sat down He seemed to be waiting for Ianto to say more, so he said, "I … I wasn't allowed to read." He paused for a moment before adding, "I wasn't allowed to sit on a chair." His eyes flicked up to Jack's, saw the anger (not directed at him, he knew), and dropped his gaze again. Time to change the subject. "Everything ok at the Hub?" he asked, knowing Jack had just been on the phone for a daily update.

"Nothing the others can't handle. They'd love to see you." Ianto shook his head frantically. Other than Owen that first night, he hadn't seen anyone other than Jack since his return. He just wasn't sure he could cope with the girls, or even with Owen, now he'd come to himself enough to realise Jack wasn't going to kill him. "OK," Jack agreed. "But … would it be okay with you if we had a visitor?" Ianto looked up warily. "I'd like to ask the Doctor to stop by," said Jack tentatively. "I think he can help."

"You want him to look inside my head," said Ianto.

Jack didn't reply immediately, and seemed to be considering his words. "You remember me telling you about what happened on the Valiant?" Ianto nodded. "Well," Jack continued slowly, "Once it was all over I had … I suppose you would call it a breakdown, for want of a better word. The Doctor fixed it. Oh, he couldn't take away the memories or make the pain disappear, but he helped me deal with it. I'd probably be in a padded cell if it weren't for him."

"Why didn't you tell me that when you told me the rest?" Ianto asked.

Jack gave a sheepish laugh. "Embarrassed, I guess."

Ianto hesitated. Part of him was terrified by the prospect, as it seemed like someone else taking control of him again, but another part of him longed for some relief, however slight, from the pain he was in. He nodded finally. "If you think it will help."

In the end it was the following day before Ianto saw any sign of the TARDIS. He knew the Doctor was able with his time machine to show up in five minutes, whatever he happened to be in the middle of, and suspected Jack had requested this delay to give him time to adjust to the idea, or even back out if he wanted. He wondered if Jack realised how grateful he was to be given that measure of control. He'd forgotten how it felt to make his own decisions, and now found it both wonderful and more than a little frightening.

The Doctor had turned up late afternoon. Owen had advised Jack to get Ianto out for a little while each day, and they were just returning from a short walk when they saw the TARDIS in the garden and the Doctor leaning against the wall near the front door. "Turned off your alarm system," he said as they approached. "Didn't want to disturb the neighbours."

"Why didn't you just go in?" said Jack. "It's cold out here."

"Is it?" said the Doctor in surprise.

"No sense no feeling," Jack told Ianto.

"Humans are SO fragile," the Doctor informed him loftily, and turned to Ianto. "It's good to see you." Ianto smiled, and lowered his gaze, suddenly nervous.

"Let's go in," said Jack.

Nothing happened til later that evening. They had eaten, and Jack and the Doctor talked about aliens and other worlds and traded friendly insults. Ianto said little, enjoying the conversation.

Jack started clearing dishes. The Doctor whispered to him and he nodded. Then the Doctor was by Ianto's chair. "Come on."

Ianto swallowed nervously, and followed the Doctor into the living room. The Doctor directed him to an armchair, and returned with a chair from the dining room, which he placed directly in front of Ianto, sitting down.

He didn't speak immediately, just looked at Ianto, who quickly dropped his gaze. "Scared?" the Doctor asked, and Ianto nodded miserably. "You don't have to do this."

"I need to," said Ianto.

"You can trust me, you know," said the Doctor quietly.

"I know."

"So look at me." Ianto's gaze flicked up, then down again. "Ianto," said the Doctor, "I know what he's like, and I can guess what he's done. He is gone now, and it is safe to look at me." Ianto steeled himself, and forced his gaze up to meet the Doctor's, pushing memories of orders and punishments away. "That's good," said the Doctor encouragingly. "You don't have to do what he says anymore." He placed his hands against the sides of Ianto's face. "Close your eyes now, and relax. If there's anything you don't want me to see, imagine a door, and close it."

The Doctor entered Ianto's mind to a chorus of slamming doors. This hadn't been entirely unexpected, and he proceeded cautiously, projecting a reassuring, safe presence. While he could sense Ianto was on one level desperate for his help, the Doctor was also sensing a huge level of shame and guilt, and wasn't sure Ianto was going to be able to overcome this enough to accept what help he could offer.

He appeared to be standing in a room surrounded by closed doors, not an uncommon mental landscape, as people often visualised this as a result of his own instruction. He looked around. "I know you're scared, but if you don't open any doors there's nothing I can do for you."

"Do you need directions, sir?" He turned, and Ianto stood behind him. He appeared in full health, and attired in an impeccable suit. "This way, sir," he said. The Doctor followed, intrigued. "I believe this is the department you're wanting, sir," said Ianto, with his hand on a door handle, "though I suspect you won't find it very enjoyable."

The door opened, and the Doctor stepped through. He found himself in a small room, a cell, really. There was a mat on the floor, rudimentary toilet, single bulb overhead, white walls. Ianto was curled up on the mat, naked. He looked pale and exhausted, and had several days growth of beard. "You will observe, sir," said Ianto in the suit, "that there are no windows, and therefore no way to accurately determine the passage of time." The Doctor looked at this persona curiously, wondering about his function in the mindscape. "No food has been provided," Ianto continued, "only water. Severe weakness is the result." As the cell door was unlocked the onlooking Ianto suddenly vanished. Then the Doctor understood. Ianto had been attempting to disassociate himself from the memory, hence the distant impersonal onlooker, but had been unable to maintain that distance in the face of who was now entering the cell.

The Master leaned over Ianto, and was pulling his hands back and handcuffing them before Ianto was even properly awake. He then dragged Ianto by his hair towards the door, ignoring his cries of pain. "Lesson time!" he said. The Doctor examined the Master's face for a clue to his behaviour, but Ianto's memory (understandably) didn't really include his facial expression. He followed them out reluctantly, remembering Ianto's words, but Ianto had steered him specifically to this memory, and the Doctor knew this meant there was something important about it and he had to pay attention, no matter what he saw.

He looked around the larger space they were in, a sparsely furnished house on Jethra, the Doctor thought, judging by the décor. The miasma of dread coming from Ianto's mind increased as the Master dragged the struggling Ianto over to a bench. "Oh no, don't do that!" murmured the Doctor futilely, wanting to turn away. You can't, he reminded himself. You might miss something important.

The Master pushed Ianto over the bench. "Lesson One," he said, fumbling at his own clothes. "You belong to me!"

Ianto shrieked in agony as the Master thrust into him unprepared. "You bastard!" he screamed. "You fucking bastard!" The Master didn't say another word until he'd finished and withdrawn, releasing Ianto, who dropped to his knees, bleeding. The Doctor was buffeted by an overwhelming blast of pain/shame/anger/ horror/disgust/ hate, and he couldn't help but wince as it washed over him.

The Master adjusted his clothes. "Lesson two," he said, and punched the kneeling Ianto in the face, knocking him to the floor. "Do not speak unless I give you permission."

"Screw you!" snarled Ianto, struggling to get up.

The Master kicked him, knocking him over again. Ianto screamed in pain. "Lesson three." He pulled Ianto to his feet, only to punch him in the stomach. "Obey all my orders instantly." Ianto writhed on the floor, gasping.

The Doctor noticed a sudden blurring of the memory, almost like a double-exposed film, with overlays of this scene, this room, similar scenes of violence in this and other rooms, all on top of each other. He considered what the Master was actually saying. Repetition, conditioning, he realised. He kept on doing this til it sunk in. No wonder Ianto was left in such a state. The Doctor winced in sympathy as the Master kicked Ianto again. He's obviously never heard of positive reinforcement, he thought.

He approached where Ianto lay bleeding on the floor, the Master apparently having decided to take a breather in the middle of the beating, and pouring himself a drink. The Doctor crouched down, looking into Ianto's eyes, and suddenly understood. "Ah, you're not here, are you?" he murmured. "Where did you go? A pleasanter memory? One with Jack? Is that how you coped?"

The scene suddenly shifted, and he found himself in a tiny room, not the same one as before, though similarly equipped. Ianto was huddled on the mat, bruised, bleeding, and sobbing quietly. He was much thinner in this memory, and his naked body was showing many partially and fully healed injuries. The Doctor suddenly realised he wasn't observing another memory. It was an amalgamation of memories and a mental depiction of Ianto's current state of mind. He gathered the weeping man into his arms, and projected as much comfort and compassion as he could.

"Don't tell Jack," sobbed Ianto, clinging to him. "Please!"

"I won't," the Doctor reassured him. "Thank you for trusting me. I can start to help you now." He rocked the other man gently. "Things will start to get better, I promise you."

Jack stayed in the kitchen, unsure how long they would be and unwilling to disturb them. He was on his third cup of coffee when the Doctor returned with the chair he'd taken, and sat down. "He's in a light sleep, but will wake in a few minutes, I should think." He didn't say anything more for a moment, and Jack looked at him expectantly. Finally the Doctor said, "Have you ever distracted yourself from a bad thing with a good memory?"

"Of course," said Jack. "Did it all the time on the Valiant."

"Have you ever got to the point where the good memory starts reminding you of the bad thing?"

Jack stared. "Oh," he said in realisation.

"Those kinds of associations are relatively easy to sever," said the Doctor. "I think you'll find a change when he wakes up." He turned to the door.

"You're not going?" exclaimed Jack.

"Only as far as the TARDIS," said the Doctor. "I'll see you in the morning."

Jack entered the living room and sat on the sofa, watching Ianto as he opened his eyes slowly. He blinked, looking around, and smiled when he caught sight of Jack. He's looking at me, Jack thought in amazement. He's really looking at me. Ianto got up, and approached the couch, sitting next to Jack. He held out his hand and Jack took it. Ianto's gaze dropped to his hand with an almost surprised expression, and he lifted his other hand to Jack's cheek. Nobody spoke.

Ianto put both arms around Jack's neck and pulled him close. Jack returned the embrace loosely, so Ianto could pull away if he wanted. "Tighter," Ianto whispered, and Jack complied. "I missed you." Jack didn't respond, unable to trust his voice. He trembled. "Ssh," whispered Ianto. "I'm home now."


	6. Chapter 6

In the med unit on the TARDIS Jack sat in a chair that reclined back slightly. A blue flickering light from equipment that hung from the ceiling played over him, and he had his eyes shut. "This is really annoying," he complained.

"Won't be much longer," said the Doctor, looking at a computer screen. "Hmm, that's interesting," he mumbled. "I think … ah hah, yes …"

"Ah hah, yes?" echoed Jack. The Doctor turned the machine off, and Jack breathed a sigh of relief. He blinked, still seeing after-images. "What did you find?"

"Oh, umm … no closer to a cure, but I think I might be able to give you some relief. Let me work on it."

"Relief sounds good," agreed Jack. He looked around the room, aimlessly.

"What's on your mind, Jack?"

Jack sighed. "Do you think he's still alive?"

The Doctor took off his glasses, and looked at Jack seriously for a moment. "Yes, I think Ianto's still alive."

"Why?"

"Because if the Master had killed him he'd have left his body somewhere you could find it, or at the least sent you footage of his death. We both know how fond he is of his home movies."

Jack was looking confused. "What can he possibly want with Ianto?"

"You've got me there, I'm afraid," admitted the Doctor.

"Given the last time we met he had some idea turning me into his household pet was going to solve all his problems, I was expecting either you or I would be contacted suggesting an exchange. But there's been nothing." He shrugged.

Jack nodded. "We can't be sure, though, can we? Ianto … might be dead." He winced even as he said it.

"It's possible," the Doctor agreed sympathetically.

Jack decided to change the subject. "The others are getting curious, asking questions about the Master, why he hates me and so on."

"You never told them about the Year?"

Jack shook his head. "Only Ianto. And even that was only after Varangi, when he wanted to know about the Master."

"Then tell them," said the Doctor. "And about Varangi too."

"I know," said Jack wearily. He got up. "Better do it before I start getting too sick again." He looked down. "You coming?"

"Me?" exclaimed the Doctor, startled. "What's it got to do with me?"

"You don't expect me to face them on my own, do you?" said Jack, with the best pout he could manage. "I'm a sick man."

"That's the most shameless emotional blackmail I've ever heard!"

"Yes it is," Jack agreed. "So, are you coming?"

The Doctor sighed heavily, and rose. "After you."

In the end it was Martha who did most of the talking about the Year, with Jack and the Doctor only providing extra details where needed. Jack could tell the others were profoundly shocked. Gwen wanted to know why he hadn't trusted her enough to tell her, Owen pointed out that as Jack's doctor he should have been informed, and it was left to Tosh to understand it wouldn't be easy to talk about. But it was also Tosh who said it didn't entirely explain the Master's desire for revenge against Jack, or why he'd taken Ianto.

So Jack told them about Varangi, accepting complete responsibility for Ianto's involvement, much to the Doctor's surprise. Martha was a bit upset she hadn't been included, and the Doctor said truthfully enough he hadn't initially intended on taking anyone. The next question came from Owen.

"Would this nutter have a cure for Jack's illness?"

"No," said the Doctor decisively.

"You sure about that?" said Owen.

The Doctor nodded. "There would be no need to invent one, unless the disease is an extortion request. It isn't, it's revenge. He doesn't want Jack to get better, ever."

"Bloody irresponsible to invent a disease without a cure," muttered Owen.

"He would say your primitive human ethics were beneath his notice," the Doctor told him, and Owen snorted in disgust.

Jack interrupted this conversation with a paroxysm of coughing, and Martha and Owen soon had him back in the med unit, before joining the Doctor in the lab.

"Interesting as that digression was," said Owen, "did you actually find anything?"

"Yes," said the Doctor briefly, engrossed in adding various substances to a test tube.

"A cure?" asked Martha hopefully.

The Doctor shook his head. "Sorry, no. But …I think I might be able to arrest the virus, put it in a holding pattern, so to speak. He won't be well, but at least this current cycle of getting sick and dying would stop."

"That's a start," said Owen, looking interested. "What do we do?"

The Doctor explained his idea. As the three of them worked, Martha said, "Jack said something odd just now."

"Mm?" said the Doctor absently.

"He said if he hadn't let the Master go, Ianto wouldn't be in danger now. He said this was his fault."

The Doctor sighed. "That was generous of him, but he only did what I asked. The fault is mine. The most annoying part of it is, I was working on a way to …. resolve that particular problem when I got your call." He sighed again. "Too little, too late."


	7. Chapter 7

"I don't know how you did it," said Jack, as they stood outside the kitchen door early the following morning. "It's a miracle."

"Don't look at me," said the Doctor cheerfully. "He did it. He led me straight to where I was needed. You humans are stronger than you think." He sobered for a moment. "There's a long way to go yet."

Jack nodded. "I know."

There was a tap on the window behind them, and they turned. "Coffee?" asked Ianto.

They entered the kitchen, to see him standing at the coffee maker, already scooping grounds into the machine. "You said it was six months," said Ianto suddenly.

Jack nodded. "Are you sure you don't want me to do that?"

Ianto smirked. "So you've finally learned how to make coffee in the last six months, have you, Jack?"

Jack heard a distinct snigger from the Doctor, and shot a mock glare in his direction. "So, why were you asking about six months?"

"It was longer for me, I'm sure of it," said Ianto as he continued his coffee making ritual. "But I have no idea how long. To start with, there were no windows, and it was a long time before I was allowed out. Even then, I wasn't counting … too busy trying to …" He trailed off. "Coffee's ready." He smiled cheerily. "Let's see if I've still got it." He poured, and handed cups around.

Jack sat next to Ianto, their chairs almost touching, and the Doctor sat on the other side of the table where he could see Ianto's face. They watched him take a sip. He nodded, with a pleased expression. "I guess it's like riding a bike."

"What were you too busy trying to do?" the Doctor asked.

"Live?" suggested Jack.

"Oh, no, Jack," said Ianto. "I wouldn't have minded if he'd killed me." Jack looked appalled, but the Doctor continued to drink his coffee silently, unsurprised. Ianto took Jack's hand and squeezed it. "I was trapped," he said apologetically. "There was no way out, no way home. I didn't think I'd ever see you again. All I had to look forward to was …" He stopped again.

"You can tell us," said Jack.

"He starved me," said Ianto, "and then he … hurt me until I did what he said. In the end I did what he said."

"You didn't have a choice."

"Didn't stop him, mind," Ianto continued as if he hadn't heard. "He'd always say I deserved it. More often than not I didn't know what I'd done."

"You didn't do anything," the Doctor interjected. "It's what he does, twists things around so you start believing it's all your fault. It's not."

"I got … so confused," Ianto said distantly. "Started believed whatever he said. Couldn't help myself."

Ianto was scrubbing a tiled floor on hands and knees. He was feeling rather light-headed from lack of sleep and food, but didn't dare stop.

("Scrubbing a floor?" exclaimed Jack.

"I was supposed to work all the time," Ianto explained. "I'm sure there were easier ways to clean, but he never let me have access to anything like that."

"Go on," said the Doctor.)

He was about half way across the floor when the dreaded voice yelled out, "Monkey!"

Ianto dropped the scrubbing brush he was holding and hurriedly entered the living room. The Master was lounging on a sofa, flicking channels on a large wall screen TV. Ianto knelt, eyes on the floor. "Yes, Master?"

The Master looked him over for a moment. "Look at the screen." Ianto turned to face the wall to wall TV, puzzled. "News from home," said the Master.

The screen showed what Ianto immediately recognised as CCTV footage of Roald Dahl Plass. As he watched he suddenly saw three figures cross the screen. "Jack," he whispered.

Jack was walking slightly ahead of the other two, but slowly, not at the pace Ianto was accustomed to seeing. Gwen and Tosh followed, and from Gwen's hand gestures she seemed to be remonstrating with him. Jack stopped and turned, so his face was shown on the screen for the first time. "My, he doesn't look very well, does he?" said the Master gleefully. "Do you think it hurts?" Jack seemed to be responding to what they were saying, then Gwen and Tosh each took one arm, and all three continued on.

"Got a bit of audio," said the Master. "Quite interesting."

Gwen's voice suddenly came over the speaker. "We have to do something. We have to find Ianto."

Jack's voice replied. "We have more important concerns."

The Master switched off the screen. "Well," he said. "That's not very nice."

Ianto sprang to his feet and turned to face the Master. "I don't believe it! You made that up! He wouldn't give up on me!"

They faced each other silently for a moment, Ianto trembling in anticipation of the punishment he was sure was going to be the result of his defiance. The Master, however, just smiled at him pityingly. "You keep telling yourself that, Monkey." He returned to channel surfing, with a dismissive wave of the hand.

"Monkey?" asked Jack.

"It's what he called me," said Ianto, looking at his hands which were wringing again. "Never heard my own name."

"He didn't let you get away with that, did he?" said the Doctor.

Ianto shook his head. "A couple of hours later he whipped me," he whispered. "At least I knew why, that time." He tried to pull himself together, tried to get up. "More coffee?"

Jack pulled him gently back down, quickly exchanging a glance with the Doctor over his head. It was a few moments before Ianto realised Jack's arms were around him, holding him tightly. "I'm sorry, Jack," he whispered into Jack's shoulder.

"For what?"

"So weak …"

"You are not weak!" Jack said fiercely, pulling back so he could look at Ianto. "Don't ever say that!" He lifted Ianto's chin so they were eye-to-eye. "That's the Master talking. You're stronger than that." He kissed Ianto briefly. "Alright?"

Ianto gave a small smile, and nodded. "Alright." He looked around. "Did we chase the Doctor away?"

Jack laughed. "We're both here for you, whatever you need."

"What do I need?" asked Ianto.

Jack helped him up and walked him into the living room, settling himself on the couch so Ianto could curl up against him. "Yes, this is nice," agreed Ianto. Jack smiled. "He brainwashed me, didn't he?" said Ianto suddenly.

"Yes," agreed Jack calmly. "But you know the good thing about brainwashing? It doesn't take."

"Really?"

"Yep," said Jack "It's a fallacy. Doesn't survive the victim's return to a normal environment."

"What happens when the original environment wasn't that normal to start with?" Jack laughed, and Ianto laughed as well, a laugh which turned into a yawn. "All I do is sleep," he complained.

"Well you do have a little catching up to do," said Jack. "Shut your eyes."


	8. Chapter 8

Jack sat at Toshiko's desk, talking over the comm unit to the team out in the field. He heard a slight whirring noise behind him, but didn't move, as the group in the field were closing in on the alien they were chasing. "It's turned into a dead end," Gwen's voice said. "We've got it."

"Be careful," said Jack. He heard commands to the alien, conversation with each other, and then Gwen spoke again.

"Don't know it, Jack, and it doesn't seem to understand us. Transmitting a picture." Seconds later the alien appeared on the screen.

"Ooh, he's a long a long way from home," Jack heard the Doctor say from behind him, even as he breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's a Kolch," he told Gwen. "Relax, he's harmless, and more scared of us than we are of him. There must be a ship nearby. Bring him in, and we'll try to signal them to come and get him."

"OK, see you soon," said Gwen.

Jack turned to the Doctor. "Scanning me?"

"Just checking," said the Doctor. "Don't overdo it. You're not better."

"I'm painfully aware of that," said Jack drily, pulling at the shirt that hung loosely on him. "God, I look like a scarecrow."

"Coffee?" asked the Doctor, crossing to the machine.

"Thanks," Jack replied. "And I'm not complaining. I can function now, kind of, and that's an improvement." He took the coffee the Doctor handed to him, and took a sip. "Sorry Martha had to go back to UNIT."

"Yes, well, they needed her. We'll manage." The Doctor watched Jack silently for some moments. "Don't give up," he said suddenly. "There's a solution to every problem, and we'll find it."

"I'm not giving up," Jack replied. The Doctor looked at him sceptically. "No, really," he insisted. "I'm just tired, that's all."

As soon as he returned, Owen joined the Doctor in the lab. He usually found him bouncing around from test to experiment to computer, but on this occasion found him sitting deep in thought. He's run out of ideas, thought Owen, suddenly anxious. Now we really are in trouble.

"Shut the door," said the Doctor. Owen did, fearing the worst. "What do you know about Jack's immortality?"

"Not much really," Owen replied. "When he dies he doesn't stay dead. Any injuries heal rapidly. He wasn't always like this, and at one stage he thought you were going to be able to make him normal again."

The Doctor nodded. "There's a thing called the Vortex. It's what enables time travel. It's very powerful, and it's what caused Jack's immortality."

"He was exposed to it?" Owen asked.

"Kind of," said the Doctor. "The thing is, we were wondering what keeps the virus alive between the death and resurrection. So I had an idea, and ran some tests. The Master has imbued the virus with Vortex. That's why it survives. Rather brilliant, actually."

Owen could follow this logically, even if the science was beyond him. "So you have an idea to fix it?"

The Doctor nodded. "If we could introduce the virus without the Vortex into his system … in Jack's weakened condition it will replicate, forcing out the other. Next time he dies and resurrects, he would be virus free."

Owen nodded. "How do we get the virus without the Vortex?"

"Ah," said the Doctor. "Well, that's the bit you're not going to like."

Two hours later, Owen and the Doctor were in the TARDIS med unit, while Jack and the others were still occupied with the Kolch. The Doctor had removed jacket, tie and shoes, and was sitting on a bed, rolling up a shirt sleeve.

Owen held a hypodermic and was frowning. "Are you sure this isn't dangerous?"

"All I'm going to do is locate and remove a little bit of Vortex," said the Doctor, "but I need it to be inside me for me to do that."

"You didn't answer the question."

"No, it's not dangerous … well, maybe a bit … well … look, just keep Jack away, he'll fret." The Doctor lay back on the bed. "Healing trance is a bit like … hibernation. My breathing and pulse rate will slow, so don't worry about that. Tell Jack and the others I'm engaged on important research and do not want to be disturbed."

"How long will this take?" asked Owen.

"As long as it takes," said the Doctor.

"And what do I do if anything goes wrong?" demanded Owen.

"There won't be anything you can do," said the Doctor bluntly.

Owen was looking extremely unsettled. "That is not very encouraging."

"We have no choice." The Doctor held out his arm. "Do it." Owen injected the hypodermic. "Thank you," said the Doctor. "Look after Jack til I get back." He folded his arms on his chest and closed his eyes.

(Two days later …)

Shortly after 2am Jack moved quietly through the Hub towards the TARDIS. He had initially accepted Owen's statement about the Doctor's research, but after seeing him make what he obviously thought were surreptitious visits to the TARDIS, looking more and more nervous and worried each time he came out, Jack was getting suspicious. He had asked Owen casually earlier that evening how the Doctor's research was going, and whether they would be seeing him any time soon, and while Owen answered calmly enough he thought maybe tomorrow, Jack knew he was lying.

When Martha had arrived in Cardiff she and Owen had taken turns sleeping at the Hub, and when the Doctor arrived they had left the nights to him, but now Owen was staying again, sleeping on a camp bed in the lab. Something was obviously going on, and Jack was determined to find out.

He quietly let himself into the TARDIS, and stood in the subdued light of the console room. "Where is he?" he asked, and waited. "You keeping secrets too, huh? Come on, help me out here, I'm worried." A door opened. "Thanks gorgeous," said Jack. He was led to the med unit, and stopped inside the door in shock. "Oh, what have you done?" he exclaimed, going over to the bed. He flicked a switch above the bed, which immediately displayed the occupant's vital signs. "Healing trance. Healing from what?"

Owen was rudely awoken from sleep by a kick to the side of the camp bed. He started up. "Wha …"

"Good morning," said Jack.

"Jack," mumbled Owen. "This better be good."

"Question for you."

"In the middle of the night?" protested Owen with a yawn. "Are you off your rocker?"

"Tell me again about the Doctor's research," said Jack icily.

Owen looked at Jack's face, and said, "It was his idea."

"Two days he's been in that condition, and you didn't tell me?"

"He told me not to!"

"Who's your boss, Owen?" Jack broke off, starting to cough.

Owen got up, pulling a tshirt on over the track pants he was wearing. "Will you sit down before you fall over?" He wandered out to the kitchen, muttering, "Knew this was a bad idea."

Jack followed him. "Owen?"

Owen started boiling the kettle, and pointed to the sofa in the main area. "I'll be with you in a minute, Jack, but if I'm not going to be allowed to sleep, I need coffee." Jack, suddenly aware he was feeling rather light-headed, reluctantly withdrew. When Owen joined him a few minutes later, the first thing he said was, "When I have a patient I don't know how to cure, as far as I'm concerned the boss is the one with the most idea of what to do."

"What's he done?" Owen filled him in. Jack listened in silence, and finally said incredulously, "And you let him?"

Owen raised an eyebrow. "Exactly how was I supposed to stop him?" Jack didn't answer, and Owen sighed. "Jack, I'm not going to pretend I even understand all this time vortex stuff, but he seemed certain and you always acted like he was to be trusted about this. So I did!"

It was Jack's turn to sigh. "You should have told me."

"Nothing we can do till he wakes up," said Owen.

(Three days later …)

The Doctor stirred, and opened his eyes.

"Good morning, sunshine."

He turned his head, and looked at Jack. "Jack, what …" He licked dry lips, and Jack handed over a glass of water. The Doctor sat up and gulped it down.

"You could have died," said Jack.

"Nonsense!" said the Doctor cheerily. "Well … what you are doing here? Owen was supposed to keep you away."

"You didn't think the 'important research' line was going to work for five days, did you?"

"Well, I … five days?" the Doctor exclaimed. "Really?" He got up, not quite meeting Jack's gaze. "Umm … you look tired. Go rest. Is Owen here?" Jack nodded. "Tell him to meet me in the lab." The Doctor grinned. "I think we're finally on the right track."

(One day later …)

"So I have to die again."

The Doctor looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, it's the only way."

"That's all right," said Jack resignedly. He waited til the Doctor was out of earshot for a moment, and whispered to Owen, "Do I have to die from the virus for this to work?"

"I shouldn't think so," said Owen. "But if you must do what I think you're going to do, you need to wait two days to be sure the new virus has taken proper hold."

"Do NOT tell him," said Jack.

"Not completely stupid, thank you," said Owen haughtily.

(Two days later)

"He shot himself?" exclaimed the Doctor, aghast. "Does he do this often?"

"Well I wouldn't say often," said Gwen, as they arranged Jack's body on the bed in the med unit.

"He just wanted to hurry things along," Owen pointed out.

The Doctor rounded on him. ""You knew he was going to do this!"

"Yes I did!" said Owen harshly. "So what? You don't imagine we could have stopped him! And what right have we got to complain? He's the one who's been in agony for weeks."

"Ianto would probably say the same as you," Tosh said. "He never liked it when Jack died."

"No," said the Doctor. "He didn't." He glanced at the bed. "He's coming back."

Seconds later Jack jerked and gasped. Gwen took his hand. "Hello."

Owen went to his side with a syringe. "Let's see if this has worked." He drew blood, and disappeared to the lab.

Jack sat up, stretching, and grinned at the Doctor. "You're annoyed, I can tell."

"It's not that I don't understand, Jack, it's just …" The Doctor shrugged. "Took me by surprise, that's all."

Jack got up. "I'm going to shower and change." He glanced at the Doctor again, who nodded slightly, then he disappeared to his quarters.

The Doctor wandered off in the direction of the TARDIS, and Gwen and Tosh busied themselves with work.

A little over an hour later, Owen emerged from the lab. "Where's Jack?"

"In his office," said Gwen.

Owen ran up the stairs, the girls following. He didn't waste any time. "Test results are clear," he said. "You're cured."

Gwen and Tosh cheered, as Jack stood up. "Thanks for everything, Owen." He grabbed his coat, and headed out of the office.

"Where are you going?" asked Gwen as they followed him.

"Look after things," said Jack, heading down the stairs to where the Doctor waited at the open doors of the TARDIS. "You can call me on my mobile if you need. You'll be able to reach me." He smiled, the first genuine smile they'd seen in weeks. "Time to find Ianto."


	9. Chapter 9

In the library on the TARDIS, a hologram of a planet floated above a table. "Jethra," said the Doctor. "That was your first stop. Its inhabitants look like this." He touched a control on the table in front of him, and a yellow creature vaguely resembling a slug appeared on the screen. "They're very peaceful. Great builders."

Ianto was sitting in a chair next to him, watching with interest. "Where next?"

The Doctor patiently took him through a list of eleven planets. Finally he finished. "Is that what you wanted? The first eight were before he knew we were tracking him. The final three were the only ones he stopped on long enough for us to track."

Ianto nodded. "I just ... wanted to know where I've been."

He didn't say anything else, and after a moment the Doctor prompted, "What are you thinking?"

"Some planets I was allowed to see people, other places nothing. There wasn't a pattern, not one I understood."

The Doctor thought through all the planets, and said, "Let me guess which places you didn't see anyone." He ran through five of the eleven planets.

Ianto gaped at him. "How did you know?"

"On those planets anyone who saw you, the condition you were in, the way you were obviously being treated, would have reported it to the authorities. He knew that."

Ianto nodded. "Makes sense." He paused, wanting to ask something, but not knowing quite how to put it.

"I find the best way is just to ask," said the Doctor.

Ianto smiled in spite of himself. "I thought you had to touch me to read my mind?"

"Oh, that was reading your face."

Ianto took a deep breath. "Why are you still here?" He winced, shaking his head. "That didn't come out right. I mean … I am so grateful you saved Jack, and helped him look for me, but … this … you've helped me, so much, I don't know what I would have done … but …. you must be so bored!"

The Doctor waited patiently for this rather incoherent statement to conclude, and surprised Ianto by giving a quiet chuckle. Ianto reluctantly joined in. "I'm not making any sense."

"Yes you are," said the Doctor.

"When Jack said he had to go back to Cardiff today, I didn't think you'd hang around, and you don't need to really. I'm getting better. I don't need a babysitter."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?"

Ianto looked at him uncertainly. He didn't look offended. "You must have more important things to do," he said tentatively.

"No," said the Doctor. "I do not have anything more important to do that repair the damage the Master's done, as much as it can be repaired. And I definitely have nothing more important to do than look after a sick friend." He smiled at Ianto's sudden embarrassment.

Time to change the subject before I put my foot still further in my mouth, Ianto thought in disgust. "Why do you feel responsible for him? Isn't that like saying … if Adolf Hitler and I were the only two humans alive I become responsible for the Jewish holocaust?"

"You weren't personally acquainted with Adolf Hitler, or in a position to influence him for the better."

"Oh," said Ianto. "But still, his choices are his own. It doesn't make you responsible."

"I think you're defining 'responsible' as 'to blame'," the Doctor pointed out. "It's more a case of … well, where I come from we clean up our own mess, if we can."

"And he's your mess."

"In a manner of speaking." The Doctor got up. "Let's get out of here."

Outside there was frost on the ground, and their breath smoked in the chill air. The Doctor wondered whether there would be snow for Christmas this year, real snow. "Coffee?" asked Ianto, as they entered the house.

The Doctor agreed, and soon they were in the kitchen, the coffee brewing. "You haven't told him yet, have you?" said the Doctor suddenly.

Ianto grimaced, knowing exactly what he was referring to. "Not yet."

"He's probably guessed, you know," said the Doctor. "He knows what the Master's like."

Ianto nodded. "Guessing's one thing, but coming out and saying, Jack, as if the torture and brainwashing weren't enough, the Master raped …" He broke off. The Doctor was about to reply when Ianto continued. "He's so very angry. I can feel it. And everything I say just makes him angrier."

"It's not aimed at you."

"I know that. I just hate it he feels that way, and I'm creating an impression that …" he trailed off again.

The Doctor was curious about his choice of words. "What impression?"

Ianto was suddenly nervous. "I could never say this to Jack. I'm not sure I can say it to you." He looked like he was trying to work up his nerve about something. "There were times … I felt sorry for him." He looked at the Doctor's surprised expression, and dropped his eyes. "It's hard to explain."

"Try," said the Doctor quietly.

"People would come to the house sometimes," said Ianto. "There'd be meals, conversations, deals of some sort, money changing hands. I couldn't understand what was being said, of course, but sometimes I wondered if he was dabbling in local politics. Don't ask me what makes me think that. It was just an impression. Sometimes, and when it would happen it would be nearly always after one of these visits, he'd … he'd actually talk. I mean really, almost normally, and like I was a regular person." He sighed. "It's hard to explain." He didn't say anything else for a moment, just stared at the coffee cup sitting on the table in front of him, but suddenly looked up and said, "I could show you."

The Doctor nodded. "Alright."

He found himself in a room decorated in dark purple and plum coloured rugs and wall coverings. Tesh, the Doctor thought. The Master lounged in an armchair and Ianto, attired in a black tunic and trousers, his feet bare, stood at a drinks cabinet pouring a drink. The Doctor received an impression of extreme exhaustion from him, even as he turned around with the drink and revealed a nasty black eye. He presented the glass to the Master and went to withdraw, when the Master snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor. Ianto apparently understood this signal, as he immediately assumed a kneeling position next to the chair.

"You know," said the Master," I spent two years on Varangi." His face was much clearer in this memory, and the Doctor realised why when he saw Ianto glance up in surprise, before lowering his head again hurriedly before he was noticed.

The Master had a slight frown on his face, and seemed lost in thought, though not drunk as far as the Doctor could tell. "The thing about Varangi, is it is so ludicrously easy to make ridiculously large sums of money, just like that!" He snapped his fingers. "So, what does one do with a lot of money? Oh, there's the whole 'take something over' business, but … I'm bored with that. It was hard work taking over the Earth, and the Paradox machine made my teeth ache, and then the Doctor has to go and pull a rabbit out of his arse and save the day! And to top it all off I got shot! That was my back up plan, but still, it hurt! So, I thought, I'll retire! That's it. I'll travel. I'll have fun. I'll take up a hobby. That's you, by the way. I'm bored, and I'm tired, and there's no one but me and the thumping in my head." He sighed. "My head aches." He drained the glass and held it out. Ianto took it and exited to the kitchen to wash it. When he returned to the room to replace the glass in the drinks cabinet, the Master was nowhere to be seen.

The Doctor withdrew his hands. "Do you see what I mean?" asked Ianto anxiously. "It didn't happen very often, but sometimes it was better."

"He still wanted you grovelling on the floor," the Doctor mentioned.

"He wasn't ordering me, accusing me, or hurting me." Ianto shrugged. "That makes it better in my book. I can't say any of this to Jack, because he'd just say I have Stockholm Syndrome." He looked away. "I don't know. Maybe I do."

"There's power in a name," the Doctor said. "Power to mislead sometimes. Like calling something a syndrome that's really quite natural."

"Natural?" asked Ianto, confused.

"If you're at the complete mercy of a powerful abuser," said the Doctor, "don't you think identifying with his needs, sympathising with his circumstances, is just self-preservation?" Ianto said nothing. "Could you resist?" added the Doctor.

Ianto shook his head. "He was too strong. Found that out the hard way. And there was nowhere to run."

"Well then."

"I can't help feeling sorry for him," said Ianto. "I know he's damaged me, some days I think beyond repair, but … I don't think he really understands what he does … or … no, he doesn't get the consequences. He'd … he'd get mad, and get the whip out, and then minutes, sometimes seconds after, I'd see him looking around as if he didn't know why I was on the floor or where all the blood came from. Sometimes … he'd have to do something to help me, when he'd been … rougher than usual. He'd tell me while he was dressing some wound or setting a bone that I should really take better care. To start with I thought he was just being a bastard. Later I wasn't so sure."

Food for thought, the Doctor thought, intrigued by the behaviour Ianto was describing to him. There was the sound of a car pulling up. "Jack's back," said Ianto.

"Hello?" called Jack's voice a few minutes later.

"In the kitchen," called the Doctor.

Ianto returned to the coffee machine as Jack sauntered in. "Everything all right?" asked Ianto, handing him a mug.

"Storm in a teacup," Jack assured him. "How are you?"

"Alright. The Doctor showed me all the places I'd been. It was interesting."

Much later in the evening, Jack, having said good night to the Doctor, went to the room where Ianto was sleeping. He paused at the door for a moment, and was just turning away when the door opened.

"Come in, Jack," said Ianto.

Jack, surprised, entered. "You ok? Nightmares?"

Ianto shook his head. "No … well, yes, but that's not … I just needed to talk to you."

He returned to the bed and sat on the side of it. Jack sat next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Ianto?"

"Don't get angry," said Ianto. Jack frowned at him, because just before the Doctor had gone off to the TARDIS he'd said exactly the same thing.

"I'm not angry with you," he said, puzzled.

"That's not what I mean. I just …" He paused. "I want to tell you something and I just want you to focus on what I'm saying, you and me, not … anyone else. Please?" Jack nodded. Ianto took a deep, steadying breath. "The Master raped me," he said, "several times." He felt Jack's arm tighten around his shoulders, and was too frightened to look up, instead staring at the floor.

Jack dropped a kiss on top of his bowed head. "I thought he might have," he said quietly.

"I got used to it," Ianto whispered. Jack realised he was sobbing. "What kind of freak gets used to something like that?" he wailed.

Jack wrapped both arms around him. "Ssh, you're not a freak, don't say that." Ianto pulled away, mumbling something Jack wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "Did you just say 'damaged goods'?" he asked incredulously.

Ianto backed up against the bedhead, shaking. Jack was at a loss to know what to do. "Ianto, please, let me help you."

"I want … I want …"

"What? What do you want?"

"Do you still want me?" Ianto wasn't looking at him again, staring instead at his knees which he was hugging tightly to his chest.

Jack quelled the overwhelming desire to give Ianto a good shake and tell him to stop being silly, aware that this would hardly be the best move. "Of course I still want you. I love you."

"Thank you for looking for me."

Jack was confused about what seemed to be a change of subject. "Umm ... you're welcome."

"Only … I'm here now, and I'm … damaged, and it might not get better, and maybe … I just wonder if you've really thought about this." Jack was just about to respond to this, when Ianto carried on with a rush. "Let's face it, Jack, I was … kind of damaged before, have been ever since Canary Wharf, really. And now it's going to be worse. I wonder if you've really thought about a future with someone who … gets depressed, and has nightmares, and … maybe you'd be better off without me."

"Is that what you want?" Jack asked carefully.

Ianto looked up at him finally, tears running down his face. "I just want you to be happy."

"Happy?" said Jack. "OK, well, you know what makes me happy?" He smiled fondly at Ianto, and on an impulse got up, moved around the bed, and settled himself next to Ianto at the head of the bed. "There's this fella I know, young Welsh guy, looks very sexy in a suit."

"Not any more," Ianto whispered.

"Don't interrupt," Jack told him. "Where was I? Oh yes. Great sense of humour, really makes me laugh. He's someone I can tell my secrets to, and I know he won't reveal them, or judge me, or reject me. He's helped me through my nightmares too, because you know, I'm kind of damaged myself. He puts up with me, takes care of me, loves me even when I annoy him … and makes the best damned coffee I've ever drunk in my life!" Ianto gave a small smile. "I don't think I could be happy without him," Jack concluded. He put his arm around Ianto again, and Ianto relaxed, leaning against him. "Will you get it through your stubborn Welsh noggin that I'm not leaving you?"

"I love you, Jack," Ianto whispered.

"Likewise," said Jack, kissing him. "It'll get better, love, I promise."


	10. Chapter 10

"Alright," said the Doctor enthusiastically. "Short hop first to the warehouse where you found the car, and we should be able to pick up the Vortex manipulator trail from there." He looked over at Jack, who stood on the other side of the console, tense with anticipation. "It might take me a little while to pick up the trail. Why don't you go get something to eat? I think you could use it."

Jack smirked. "You needn't talk, skinny!" He headed for the door. "You want anything?"

"Cup of tea would be nice," said the Doctor absently, intent on the controls.

Jack turned back at the door. "Doc?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't know how to thank …"

The Doctor shook his head. "No need. Go eat. It's fine."

They stood outside a house on Jethra. "The woman over the road knew the Master," said Jack, "but never saw anyone else. She did say, however, that the house was always shuttered like that. He hasn't lived here in at least three months, and only stayed for about two. It's still vacant."

"Lets go in," said the Doctor.

The sonic screwdriver made short work of the door, and soon they were standing in an empty house, musty smelling from lack of air. "So what do you think?" Jack asked. "Think he might have left a forwarding address?"

The Doctor smiled. "He's cocky enough to."

They spread out to look around, but the house was completely devoid of personal effects. It was a nice house, the Doctor thought, standing in an upstairs bedroom admiring the view from the window. Nothing but the best for him, of course.

He heard Jack calling from downstairs, sounding agitated, and went to join him. He found him at an interior door, which had a heavy duty lock. "Take a look at this," said Jack, and pushed the door open. Two further doors were revealed, at right angles to each other, one led to a small shower cubicle, basin and toilet. The other, which also could be locked from the outside, was a tiny room, without windows, only ventilation ducts to provide air. There was a single low-powered light overhead, and the only item in the room was a mat on the concrete floor.

A smell permeated the room, and the Doctor looked at Jack, still standing by the door, looking nauseous but also with a question on his face. He wants confirmation, the Doctor realised. He'd already identified the odour, but took out the sonic screwdriver and scanned. "Sweat, blood, vomit, urine, excrement … human."

Jack nodded, and turned away. The Doctor heard the outside door slam a moment later. He took a last look around. "So sorry, Ianto," he murmured, and left, closing the door behind him, frowning. What's the point, Master? he thought. I understand you want revenge on Jack, but why travel around dragging Ianto with you? Why not just kill him?

Jack turned his head as the Doctor approached, apparently in the process of pulling himself together. "He must have hated … he's such a neat freak." He took an unsteady breath, let it out slowly.

"We'll find him," said the Doctor. "Come on."

The third planet they visited was home to two sentient species, one of which had the other completely subjugated. It was here they first found someone who'd seen Ianto. "Damn stupid alien," said the fat purple local, sitting on the verandah of his house while one of his servants fanned him. He looked the Doctor up and down. "Your species, I see. Though you obviously have a bit more of an idea how to care for your livestock." He waved a splotched finger at Jack, who fought to keep a straight face as the Doctor looked around with a startled expression.

"I mean, it's not hard," said the alien. "You get more out of your livestock if they're well cared for." He gestured to the being who wielded the fan. "This one puts in a long day's productive work, and why? I feed it and give it medical attention. The livestock in that alien's house was so underweight and scarred. It's a disgrace. You don't beat livestock, you coax them. Everyone knows that."

The Doctor forced a smile. "How long since he left?"

"Oh, ages," said the alien. "Several weeks."

They headed back towards the TARDIS, walking in silence. "Moo," said Jack. The Doctor forced a smile, and Jack sighed. "You're right, it's not funny. Underweight and scarred, that fat bastard said."

The Doctor tried a reassuring smile. "It's confirmation he's still alive."

"Was alive several weeks ago," Jack corrected.

Planets later, Jack was wandering through a market area, the Doctor still on the TARDIS taking readings. While this was called a market, it was as much a business area as a retail one, as the custom on this world was that deals should be made in public. Of course that was something of a fiction in real terms, as people had a multitude of ways to keep their business private. Jack thought it might be a good spot to get information about the Master, but couldn't believe his luck when through the crowds he caught a glimpse of the face he was looking for. Jack knew that producing his gun in this place would only get him arrested, so warily headed in that direction.

The Master was talking to two other beings, neither of whom seemed particularly happy with what he was saying. But moments later Jack was distracted from that conversation by the sight of who was standing a few steps back from the Master.

Jack had really believed he had been prepared. After all, he remembered the Valiant. He remembered what he had experienced and how it nearly drove him mad. He remembered what had been done to the Doctor and how sick he'd been afterwards. Now he was suddenly very aware of how much worse it all seemed when it was someone he loved.

As he watched the gaunt black-clad figure standing subserviently behind the Master with bowed head and hunched shoulders, carrying a heavy-looking satchel and shivering slightly in the chill area, Jack felt ill, suddenly breathless. He had to quell the desire to start shooting and not to stop until the Master was definitely dead and definitely staying that way. He stared at Ianto's longer hair, down over the collar of the loose tunic he was wearing. I've never seen him with long hair, Jack thought irrelevantly. He wouldn't like that. He shook his head. Concentrate, Jack, he told himself firmly.

He watched the Master snap his fingers, and Ianto stepped forward and held up the satched so the Master could open it and extract some cash, which he handed to one of the two beings. They departed, and the Master turned away, snapping his fingers again, a signal to Ianto, who followed wearily.

Why doesn't he run? thought Jack. Don't be stupid, he told himself. Where's he going to run? On this planet if he was picked up by the authorities without proper identification he'd end up in a labour camp, a piece of information no doubt the Master had been happy to provide. He noticed a gleam of metal at Ianto's neck, and moved to get a better look, revolted when he finally realised he was looking at a metal collar with some kind of electronic device attached. Tracker, Jack assumed, and probably connected to the Master's Vortex manipulator, not to mention the symbolism of making Ianto wear a collar and respond to hand signals like a dog. Yes, the Master would enjoy that, Jack thought angrily, indulging himself in a daydream involving snapping the Master's snapping fingers for him.

He cautiously followed the retreating pair into a building that was empty except for a transmat booth, where they were apparently heading. No one else was in the vicinity, so Jack drew his gun. The Master turned, and met Jack's eyes. He smiled broadly. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Keep your hands where I can see them," ordered Jack, glancing towards Ianto, who had stopped but still had his back turned. The Master smiled again, and snapped his fingers.

Ianto turned around, still clutching the bag, his eyes still lowered. "Ianto!" called Jack. "Come to me."

Ianto didn't move. "Do you know who this is?" asked the Master, amused. Ianto mumbled something. "Speak up!" snapped the Master.

"The freak, Master." Jack's jaw dropped.

"What do you think of the freak?" the Master continued with a delighted chuckle.

"I hate the freak, Master."

"Who do you love?"

"I love you, Master."

"What have you done to him?" snarled Jack, dragging his eyes away from his obviously traumatised lover with an effort. He had a split second to register the laser screwdriver in the Master's hand, before the beam hit him in the chest. The last sound he heard before everything went dark was what sounded like a cry of anguish.

He gasped in air, to find himself on the floor in front of the Transmat booth, the Doctor crouched beside him, and a crowd of curious onlookers standing around. "There, you see?" the Doctor said cheerfully, looking around. "Told you he wasn't dead." He pulled Jack to his feet, and away from the group. "He's used the Vortex manipulator again. They've gone."

Jack stared around wildly. "Shit!" he yelled, getting more startled and curious looks.

The Doctor steered him out of the door. "Calm down, tell me what happened."

"I saw him," Jack said. "I lost him … stupid!"

"Let's go back to the TARDIS and pick up the trail," said the Doctor soothingly, and began to walk, forcing Jack to follow.


	11. Chapter 11

He's in the transmat room, on that planet, whatever its called, staring at Jack's dead body, aghast. He hears the click of fingers, sees the finger point out of the corner of his eye, and he is on his knees automatically. The Master's voice whispers in his ear.

"I thought I told you to kneel."

"I … I'm sorry, Master."

"I thought I told you to make sure you were heard."

"I'm sorry, Master."

"And did I ask you to screech?"

"I … I …"

"Yes, I know, you're sorry Master," mimics the Master. "You will be." The Master straightens. "Up! We're leaving." They step into the transmat as people enter the room.

He is ordered to pack, and soon the Master is programming his Vortex manipulator. "Going for a little detour." He smiles cheerily. "Have to throw 'em off our scent. Could be turbulence."

Six rapid shifts later the Master and Ianto appear in the garden of a new property on a new planet. The Master staggers. "Ooh, it's times like this I miss my TARDIS." He shakes his head. "Our new home, Monkey!" Ianto is on hands and knees, throwing up. The Master rolls his eyes. "Can't find the staff." He heads for the house. "As soon as you've finished, carry the bags inside."

Ianto finally picks himself up, and carries in the bags, making a few trips to bring them all. On his last return he sees one of the bags has been opened, and shivers, knowing what is inside. He starts to unpack. The Master has already found the drinks cabinet and now watches him as he sips some concoction of a vile green shade.

Eventually Ianto is finished, and hopes to be dismissed, but instead the Master says, not moving, "Strip." He obeys. "Over there." The Master points to a place on the tiled floor. "Hands and knees." He moves to obey as the Master carries a chair and follows, carrying a short rod with controls on the side and an electrified heated end.

Ianto stares at the tiled floor, cold and hard beneath his hands. He hears the Master's footsteps approach, the slight click of the rod being activated, the hum of power building. The chair scrapes as the Master sits down next to him. "What am I going to do with you, Monkey?" he asks. "You just can't seem to get it right, can you?" He sighs. "The lesson for today. Obey my orders to the letter. Do not forget, hesitate, or deviate." His skin burns. Current blazes through his nerves. Ianto screams, convulsing.

"Ianto, wake up! Ianto!" He jerked awake, realising he was sitting up in his bed at the cottage, screaming, and Jack was holding onto him. Ianto clung onto Jack, shivering. Jack stroked a hand down his back. "It was just a nightmare," he said soothingly. "You're safe."

Ianto realised it was daylight, and Jack, who'd spent the night with him (their first since Ianto's return) was fully dressed. "Thought I'd let you sleep," Jack said, "though if I knew that was going to happen I'd have woken you sooner. Came to tell you it was breakfast time." He looked Ianto over. "I can bring you a tray, if you want."

Ianto shook his head. "I'll come."

The Doctor was in the kitchen, buttering toast.

"Good morning," he said. "That must have been some dream." Ianto looked slightly embarrassed as he sat down. "Do you want to talk about it?" asked the Doctor, handing him a cup of tea.

Ianto shrugged. "Flashback, I suppose." He looked at Jack, suddenly anxious. "You know I didn't mean it, don't you? What I said? And I didn't know he was going to shoot you, I swear I didn't."

Jack had taken a moment to work out what Ianto was referring to, and now said, "Relax. Of course I knew." He took Ianto's hand. "I know how frightening he is."

"He said later you were only there to kill me," said Ianto, staring at the table. "He said if you'd had any doubts my latest betrayal would have stopped them." He looked embarrassed and ashamed. "I believed him."

"That was the brainwashing," said the Doctor calmly, piling toast on his plate. "Have some toast."

Ianto took a piece and nibbled, and taking a deep breath, quickly outlined the flashback. "Wouldn't give me my clothes back for two days," he ended.

Jack fumed, and the Doctor gave him a quelling look, before asking, "Did he do that often?"

Ianto shrugged. "No clothes, no food, no sleep, whatever …"

"Did you have to wear that collar much?" Jack asked.

"Only when outside," Ianto said. "Following him around and responding to hand signals like a fucking dog!" He took a bite of toast and chewed it angrily. They watched him in silence. "The thing is," he concluded, "I started to …" He glanced at Jack. "What we talked about last night, I started to get used to all of it, believe I … deserved it, anything he did, even if I didn't know what I'd done I'd be thinking, well, I must have done something, I must deserve …" He broke off. "Once I thought I was going to forget how to speak." He gave an embarrassed smile. "Now I can't seem to shut up."

Jack looked at the Doctor, and they seemed to come to an unspoken agreement. "If you really want someone who can't seem to shut up…" He smirked.

"And why are you looking at me?" demanded the Doctor.

"I can't imagine," said Jack innocently.

He then launched into a long and involved story about a trip with the Doctor and Rose that was supposed to prove his point, with the Doctor interrupting constantly and telling him he was getting it all wrong, and commenting that memory was the first to go in humans.

As he listened Ianto found himself relaxing. He understood the change of subject and the subsequent silliness was deliberate, but he was grateful for it, as he felt able to put aside his problems, at least for the moment.


	12. Chapter 12

"What's he playing at?" muttered the Doctor, flicking controls and frowning at the displays.

"What is it?" asked Jack, peering over his shoulder. He saw the readouts and frowned. "He's hopping."

"Yes," said the Doctor. "I can't get a proper fix because he's not stopping long enough. So its going to be impossible to pick up these quick stops."

"Ianto'll be as sick as a dog if the bastard keeps this up for long," fumed Jack.

The Doctor looked apologetic. "This may take a while."

Jack nodded as his phone rang. "Hi Gwen." He listened. "No, we haven't found him yet … Really? Oh …. What have you found out so far? … uh huh … ok … keep looking, I'll get back to you." He hung up.

"Trouble?" asked the Doctor.

"Something weird going on," said Jack reluctantly. "Sounds like they could use my help."

"Okay," said the Doctor. "I'll drop you off, and come back and pick up the trail."

"Thanks Doc."

A Routon scoutship had crashed in Cardiff Bay. Its three surviving crew, looking for parts to repair their communication equipment and signal for pick up, entered Cardiff, killing and then taking control of three victims in order to blend in. Routons being Routons, however, weren't all that good at blending in, and before Jack's arrival the others had pinpointed the location of the craft and were following the trail of mayhem the trio were leaving in their wake.

The aliens eventually decided that the electronics suppliers they'd been working their way through simply didn't have what was needed, and mounted an attack on Torchwood itself, their own scanners having confirmed it was the best source of the equipment they needed locally. Jack decided on a risky course of action, letting the aliens in and then locking down the Hub. Twelve hours, a lot of fried equipment and one (temporarily) fried Jack later, the aliens were killed, and the lockdown lifted. The clean up operation was lengthy, and it was another three days before all was under control, and Jack felt able to rejoin the search.

Before he had a chance to contact the Doctor, however, the Doctor phoned him, saying he had landed on the Plass and suggesting Jack let himself in. Jack, a little worried at the note of strain he could detect in the Doctor's voice and wondering why he wasn't landing inside the Hub, went out to the Plass and entered the waiting TARDIS.

Inside, he stopped in shock. The first thing that met his eyes was an activated portable cell, its battery wired into the TARDIS power supply. Inside the cell paced the Master, who looked at Jack and sneered, "There goes the neighbourhood."

Jack looked towards the console, where the Doctor was already dematerialising and setting a course. He seemed unusually subdued. Jack looked around rapidly. "He was alone," said the Doctor.

Jack stared at him in shock, and then strode up to the cell. "Where is he?" he demanded. "What have you done with him?"

The Master sniggered. "Maybe I killed him. Maybe I ditched him. Oh, I know, maybe I sold him." Before Jack could even muster a response, the Master looked over at the Doctor who, having taken off, was now sitting on the seat next to the console, watching them silently. "You persist in befriending these simians! Did the freak think I was actually going to answer his question?"

"I'm sure I can think of a way to persuade you," said Jack sweetly.

"You'd have to turn off the cell to do that," responded the Master just as sweetly. "Go on. I dare you."

"Not going to happen," interjected the Doctor.

"Oh, be a sport!" complained the Master. "Freak thinks he can best me. I wonder why? Because right's on his side?" He laughed. "Are you protecting me? Cos I'm the only other Time Lord? I'm so touched …"

"Oh, shut up!" snapped the Doctor, slamming his hand down on a control on the console. To Jack's surprise the Master suddenly collapsed, apparently unconscious. "He'll stay that way until I want him to wake," said the Doctor.

Jack approached and looked at the control, realising all functions of the portable cell were now routed through that point. He looked up at the Doctor, who now he was standing closer he realised was unusually pale. "We've got a long way to go," the Doctor said. "It'll take some time to get there." He started to get up from the seat, and suddenly swayed, grabbing the edge of the console. Jack steadied him. "What's wrong?" he asked urgently.

"Umm … he kind of shot me … just a bit."

"Med unit," ordered Jack. "Now. Come on."

Some time later Jack returned to the control room, after treating a wound on the Doctor's side made by the Master's laser screwdriver. It had missed any vital organs but had caused a lot of bleeding, leaving the Doctor quite weak. All the Doctor would say when Jack asked how he'd caught the Master was that if you let the Master think he was in charge you could get him to do anything.

Jack wandered around the console, sat down, and perused the cell controls for a while. The Doctor had told him the Master had done three stints of hopping with the Vortex manipulator, leaving approximately eighteen planets where he might have dumped Ianto, and with no way for them to know where or when. The Master's Vortex manipulator would contain the information, but he'd managed to wipe it before the Doctor could check it. Jack opened a panel on the console, took out the Doctor's sonic screwdriver which he'd lifted from the other's coat, and made some adjustments. Finally, closing the panel, he walked around to the cell, and pressed a control on his wristcomp.

Moments later the Master groaned and stirred. Jack waited patiently until he was noticed. "What do you want?" snarled the Master, and looked around.

"He's not here," said Jack. "He's asleep … sedated."

"Well now's your chance!" laughed the Master. "Turn off the cell and beat me up."

"I'm not turning off the cell," said Jack. "I remember how strong you are."

The Master grinned. "Oh dear," he said in mock sympathy, "I guess you'll never find out where your precious friend is."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," said Jack. "You see, I'm not sure the Doctor was aware of this, but these cells can be used for purposes other than containment. I've got one at home, and I've had a long time to practice." He smiled at the Master, and pressed another button. The bars of the cell blazed, and an arc of current shot through the Master, who screamed. "Where's Ianto?" asked Jack. The Master had fallen to his knees, and now, getting his breathing under control, glared up at Jack. "Not laughing?" Jack enquired. "Guess its not so funny when the pain's your own."

"Come on," said the Master. "Would the Doctor approve?"

"I doubt it," said Jack, and pressed the button again. He waited til the Master's screams subsided, and repeated, "Where's Ianto?"

"This is really quite new," the Master reflected. "He's never travelled with anyone who would do this before. And its not that none of them had the guts. But they've always been so …" he made a face, "nice!"

"Oh, you know I'm not nice," said Jack, and pressed the button again. "Where's Ianto?"

"You don't … seriously think I'm going to talk, do you?" the Master gasped, and grinned. "Perhaps you don't care. Perhaps you're getting revenge for all those times I killed you."

Jack paused with his finger over the button, and his eyes narrowed. "I saw him. I saw him thin, and shivering, and cowed, and out of his head with fear, and confused, and exhausted. I saw the collar, and I can imagine the scars. If I'm getting revenge, you bastard, it's not for me!" He pressed the button again, and held it until the Master passed out.

The Doctor entered the control room shortly before the TARDIS was due to land at its destination. Jack was sitting near the console reading a book, and the Master was still unconscious. "How are you feeling?" Jack asked.

"Better," said the Doctor. "Thank you, Jack."

"Hey, I owe you." The Doctor rounded the console, and stood looking at the Master's unconscious form. "Where are we heading?" Jack asked.

"The planet's uninhabited, not even named. Reasonable climate, no sentient species for another hundred thousand years. I've already set up accommodation and supplies. I was arranging this before any of this started."

"You're marooning him," said Jack.

"Yes," said the Doctor. "I'm leaving him means to contact me if he needs, and I'll look in from time to time." A guilty look passed over his face.

"Too generous, if you ask me," said Jack. "He'll never give us Ianto, will he?"

The Doctor shook his head. "There's nothing you can do that will make him talk if he doesn't want to."

Jack had an uneasy feeling the Doctor somehow knew exactly what he'd been up to, and was a little surprised he wasn't getting yelled at, or at least lectured. Maybe he's saving it, he thought.

The Master was successfully transferred outside without regaining consciousness. Using his sonic screwdriver (which Jack had returned to where he found it before the Doctor woke) the Doctor extended the TARDIS forcefield to cover where he was standing, with the Master just outside. "Could you …"

"I'll wait in the TARDIS," said Jack. He watched them on the screen. He didn't listen, thought the Doctor wouldn't appreciate it. He could see the Master was furious and the Doctor stony faced, pretty much what he expected. Finally the Doctor returned to the TARDIS. Jack watched him walk up to the console and set coordinates. "Doc?" Jack asked.

"What else can I do?" the Doctor asked him, upset.

"Nothing," Jack replied, firmly pushing all thoughts of summary execution to the back of his mind.

"You want him dead," said the Doctor.

Jack might have been tempted to point out the many and excellent reasons he had for desiring this particular outcome, but the Doctor hadn't been accusatory in his statement, just sad. "It's not my call," said Jack.

The TARDIS dematerialised. "I'm sorry about Ianto, Jack," the Doctor said. "I really am."

"I know," said Jack. The reality of his failure was only just starting to hit him, and he felt grief rising with the lump in his throat. "I'm … " He turned to the door, and left the control room.


	13. Chapter 13

His world had shrunk to the bare essentials. Since he had seen Jack so briefly, only to betray him again, something had changed inside him, snapped. He rarely thought about his life before the Master any more. The memories he once used to comfort himself in the beginning became painful as time passed, til finally his thoughts were as shrunken as his surroundings. Do as you're told, keep quiet, wait to die. Or maybe he was already dead, and this was hell. Yes, that would make sense. Master said Jack wanted him dead, all his friends wanted him dead. Master said he was a coward and a traitor and deserved whatever he got. Master must be right.

He stood in the kitchen of this rented property, God knew where or when, polishing glasses and arranging them carefully on a shelf. The Master had been entertaining a couple of women the previous night, and Ianto had been up all night fetching drinks or whatever else was required, and had spent most of the morning cleaning up the aftermath. This was the last of it, and he was feeling light-headed from fatigue.

Footsteps entered the kitchen. "Not finished yet, Monkey?" He put down the cloth and the last glass, recognising the tone. "Too slow," said the Master. "Strip."

Ianto obeyed, having lost even his fear of what was going to happen next. Master said he'd been too slow, so he deserved it, whatever it was. The Master looked around the room, and indicated the bench. Ianto bent over it, and braced himself. He clutched the edge of the bench and cried out in pain as the Master thrust into him, whispering in his ear, "You deserve this Monkey, you know you deserve it." Ianto whimpered in pain. "What would Freak think if he could see you now?" the Master continued, thrusting brutally. "How disgusted would he be, I wonder? He'd be repulsed by you. You know that, don't you?" Ianto nodded, tears rolling down his cheeks. He cried out again as the Master pulled out of him, leaving blood trickling down his thighs.

The Master wandered away into the living area. "Get me a drink." Ianto hadn't been given permission to get dressed yet, so hobbled naked in the Master's wake, heading for the drinks cabinet. "Brandy, straight."

The Master took the glass from Ianto, and snapped his fingers, pointing to the floor. He didn't pay attention as Ianto knelt, but stared into his brandy as he swirled it in his glass. "Do you remember the first time I had you, Monkey ?" he asked thoughtfully. "How you fought!" he chuckled. "Now look at you. No fight left, not physically, not mentally. And you know what this means?" He leaned forward and whispered to Ianto's bowed head, "This experiment is concluded." He leaned back in the chair and took a mouthful of brandy, swishing it around his mouth appreciatively before finally swallowing. "Oh, not to say I don't miss my telepathy. I could have had you grovelling like you are inside of half an hour, instead of all this work! But, ultimately, I am still the Master, and that's what's important." He started to laugh. "And hurting the freak, of course. First and foremost, hurting the freak. The look on his face when you called him freak. That was priceless. In fact, I may well treasure that memory forever." Another sip of brandy, and a long pause. "The question is, Monkey, what to do with you now? Should you die, Monkey? Should I kill you, do you think?" He picked up his laser screwdriver, and touched it to the back of Ianto's head, and then trailed it over his neck and down his back. "Of course, I could sell you, I suppose. There's always a market for well-trained servants. But you've gotten a little … sickly so I don't suppose I'd get much for you. Hardly worth the effort. Maybe I should just leave you …" He started to laugh. "Like an abandoned puppy!" he giggled. "What do you think of that, Monkey?" He feigned a look of indecision. "Shoot you, sell you, leave you. Choices, choices." He chewed his lip, and suddenly gasped. "Oh! Oh yes! I've got it!" He jumped up, and drained the brandy. "It's perfect!" he enthused. "The piece de resistance! You'll like this, Monkey, you'll like it a lot."

Ianto shivered and tried to get his sobbing under control, wiping tears away and leaning closer to Jack, who had both arms around him. He looked at the Doctor. "Can you take it away? The guilt?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry. I wish I could."

Ianto nodded. "Feel so ashamed," he mumbled, ducking his head as he leaned against Jack's chest. Jack hugged him tighter. "You're angry again."

Jack kissed him. "I'll try not to be."

"No," said Ianto. "I didn't mean … tell me why you're angry."

Jack stared at him in astonishment. "Yan, what's not be angry about? You tell me he's raping you and telling you I'd blame you for it, he forced you to kneel at his feet while he discussed whether he should kill you or not … I'd like to kick him into his next regeneration … at the least."

"I suppose," Ianto murmured, "when you put it like that …"

Jack had eyed the Doctor warily on his last remark, but the Doctor just shrugged. "Do you really imagine I've never thought things like that? Throwing him out of the TARDIS into the Vortex springs to mind."

"I didn't think you had it in you," said Jack. He looked down at Ianto, who was still leaning against his chest. "What would you like to do to him?"

Ianto's response was immediate. "I'd like to drill him full of holes with his own laser screwdriver."

"Inventive!" said Jack approvingly.

"You've given this some thought then," said the Doctor.

"Yeah," said Ianto bitterly, and suddenly pulled away from Jack and stood up. Jack looked bewildered by the sudden change of mood.

"You've got every reason to be angry," said the Doctor carefully.

"Not with him, with me!" Ianto exclaimed, hugging his chest tightly and pacing a few steps away.

Jack was about to remonstrate when the Doctor signalled him to wait. "Why?"

"Gave up, didn't I?" He shifted a few more steps, not looking at either of them. "I tried, I know, he hurt me and all that but I failed. Gave up, gave in, let him … he said I belonged to him and in the end … I did, didn't I?"

Jack spoke finally. "Seems to me you did what you needed to in order to survive."

"You didn't give in!" retorted Ianto. "Neither one of you."

"Ianto …" Jack began.

"You had it much harder than we did," the Doctor interjected.

Ianto stared at him. "How do you figure that? Jack's told me what happened to him … I don't even know what happened to you."

The Doctor looked down for a minute, then back up, and said, "Let's just say you and I have more in common than perhaps you realise."

Ianto looked away, suddenly ashamed. "I'm sorry."

The Doctor rose and approached him. "Come and sit down. Come on." He guided him back to the sofa next to Jack, and returned to his chair, waiting til Ianto was settled before he spoke again. "You had it harder than we did because you were alone."

Ianto was speechless. "Do you remember," Jack said, "me telling you about Martha's sister Tish? How she came with my food each day?" Ianto nodded. "We'd talk, not for long of course, we might get a few minutes, but I tell you," and Jack smiled, "I lived for those minutes, contact with someone who didn't want me suffering or dead."

The Doctor continued. "Last thing each night he'd go off with his wife, and Francine's last job of the day was to clean the conference room. We'd talk, chat, about the stupidest stuff sometimes, trivial, normal things …" He trailed off.

"A lifeline," Jack said, and the Doctor nodded. "You had nothing, Yan. Alien planets, languages you didn't know, no one you could communicate with except him. To come back like you have .. failed? Not even close."

"Did you ever get to talk to each other?" Ianto asked. Jack looked surprised at the question.

The Doctor smiled. "Yes. Rarely." He exchanged a look with Jack. "Don't forget you found your way back," he stressed. "And the moment you did that, you won, Ianto. You beat him."


	14. Chapter 14

He remembered the sickening lurch of the Vortex Manipulator, and a dark alley. There was a click, and the collar was removed from his neck, though he was too dizzy to notice. "Remember," said the Master's voice. "You go home and you die. It's been fun, Monkey." Suddenly he was alone in the alley.

He didn't move for some minutes, waiting for Master to return. He eventually noticed that it was quite cold and raining, and hoped Master wouldn't mind if he took shelter. So he stumbled over to one wall, moved down a few steps, and finally huddled in the meagre shelter offered by a doorway. His constant exhaustion was such that as soon as he stopped moving he fell asleep.

When he woke it was daylight. The rain had stopped and from his doorstep he could see a perfectly innocuous alley, complete with bins, back doors, and bad smells. He raised a hand to his neck, realising for the first time he was no longer wearing the collar. He remembered the Master's voice, saying 'like an abandoned puppy', and realised he had, in fact, been left.

The thought was a little frightening. It occurred to him that he should get up, move, find out where he was, try to look after himself, but he honestly couldn't think how to go about doing that. He had a vague idea that once, long ago, he'd have been able to, but that was before the Master.

However the choice to move was soon taken out of Ianto's hands. The door he was leaning against suddenly opened. "What are you doing there?" bellowed a voice, and a hard kick shoved him sprawling into the alley. "Get on out of it! Bloody junkies!" Ianto, almost instinctive obedience to commands beaten into him, was up and moving before it suddenly occurred to his sluggish mind that the voice had spoken in English, with a Welsh accent. He looked around, but the door was already closed. He noticed several bundles of old newspapers tied up next to one of the bins and limped over to them, rubbing his hip where the kick had landed. Cardiff Gazette, he read on the top paper. 27 October 2008. I'm home, he thought numbly. He brought me home.

He moved further down the alley, finally burrowing into a corner behind some boxes and bins. Go home and you die, Master had said. Jack wants him dead. He betrayed Jack. He deserves to be dead. Jack deserves to kill him. So tired. He slept again.

It was evening again before he ventured from the alley. He was near the docks, and it would take some time to reach the Plass. He wondered how angry Jack was as he walked, barely aware when the rain started again. Would he shoot him straight away, or hurt him first? He didn't suppose it mattered. Jack loved him and he loved Jack, and he betrayed that. Whatever Jack wanted to do, whatever would make him happy, Ianto wasn't going to try to hide from it. It was no more than he deserved.

He entered the carpark area, noting that the other cars were gone. He had deliberately tripped an alarm on his way in, and stood for a moment directly in front of one of the cameras, making sure he was clearly seen. He faced the door his death would be coming through, and knelt, lowering his eyes to the ground. The door opened.

Jack had his gun out as he emerged into the parking area. He had seen Ianto clearly on the monitor, but given the nature of time travel, was fully aware the Master could easily be nearby, using his prisoner to lure Jack into the open. He had configured his wristcomp to scan for biosigns including Timelord, and did not approach the figure kneeling near the SUV until he was satisfied no one was present. Finally he approached, rapidly reconfiguring his wristcomp to scan for explosives or other booby traps.

"Ianto?" he said. Ianto didn't move or look up, simply remained kneeling on the concrete, his head bowed. He was dressed in the same black outfit Jack had seen a few weeks previously, though now it was soaked from the rain and spattered with mud. He shivered as Jack watched, his teeth chattering slightly.

"Ianto," he repeated, crouching in front of him and touching him on the shoulder. He carefully lifted his head. "It's me," he said, his voice catching slightly. "It's Jack. You're home." Ianto didn't resist the touch, but didn't react or look at Jack.

"I don't know how you're here," said Jack, "but I'm not complaining. You're freezing. Let's get you inside."

Owen stomped into the Hub in a very bad mood. "This better be good, Harkness," he hollered. "It's the middle of the night, and its bloody cold!" His mobile rang, and he answered it. "Med unit," said Jack, "and keep your voice down."

Owen looked at the phone in surprise, and made his way to the med unit. "What …" he began as he walked in, and stopped as Jack, who'd been standing with his back to Owen, turned around and moved, revealing a black-clad figure sitting cross-legged on the floor. "Who …" He broke off, and his jaw dropped. "Fuck! Ianto?" He turned to Jack. "What's he doing on the floor?"

"He didn't want to sit on the bed," Jack replied. "I didn't want to press the point, at least until you got here."

Owen nodded and crouched down in front of Ianto, gently raising his head and looking at his face for a few moments. "Hmm." He went to a cupboard and removed a hypodermic and bottle. "Sedative," he told Jack. "Just a light one. It'll help him relax a bit, and we'll be able to get a better idea of what we're dealing with."

Eventually they had Ianto sitting on the bed. Despite the light dose of the sedative he appeared to be quite sleepy, Owen putting it down to a mixture of exhaustion and malnutrition. "He's still anxious about the bed, though," Owen added. "You can see it in his face."

Jack didn't want to think about the reasons for that, just said, "Yan, we're going to get you out of these wet clothes now, ok, just to check you over and get you cleaned up." He and Owen carefully lifted the tunic and pulled it over Ianto's head. Jack's jaw clenched, though he had some idea of what he was going to see. Owen, however, choked, and turned his back for a minute, pretending he was looking for something in a cupboard and swearing vociferously.

"Owen," said Jack quietly.

"What?" Owen snarled.

"You're scaring him."

Owen turned back to see Ianto hunched over, his bony shoulders tense, like he was expecting a blow. Jack put a hand on his shoulder, but Ianto just flinched, and he reluctantly removed it. Owen swore again, though under his breath this time, and tried to gather his thoughts.

"All right … umm … need to take some blood, check his vitals, see if any injuries need attention …" He took a deep breath. "Right. Looks like its been a few days since he's had a bath. Jack, get some warm water and start washing him. Careful around any sore or wound." He began to take Ianto's pulse.

Nearly an hour later Ianto was finally lying asleep under a blanket, wearing track pants and a tshirt that seemed ridiculously huge on his shrunken frame. "Scan shows several healed broken bones he never had before," Owen said. "Some older than six months."

"We expected that," said Jack.

Owen nodded. "Time travel always confuses me. I'll run a full blood screen, check for any viruses he might have picked up, as well as general health. He'll be anaemic, vitamin deficient … Jack, he can't stay here, and we can't just take him home. He's going to need someone with him, looking after him … There's obviously emotional damage, more than physical maybe. If he's going to have any hope of recovery he needs complete rest, complete peace and quiet, and he's not going to get that around here."

Jack nodded. "I'm thinking the cottage. It's secure, quiet. I can stay with him, and you can come out if need be."

"When will you go?"

"Tonight," said Jack. "I'll need to get a few things together first."

Owen nodded. "Shall I tell the others?"

"Tomorrow," said Jack. "He doesn't need them in here tonight."

It was nearly dawn before Jack and Owen between them settled Ianto in the passenger seat of his own car. He was still drowsy, and still hadn't said a word. Jack tossed a laptop onto the back seat. "I've already downloaded a recommended diet and medication to the laptop," said Owen. "I'll place an order for what's needed and have it delivered to the cottage in the morning. I'll email the test results as soon as I have them."

"Any thoughts about his mental state?" Jack asked.

Owen shrugged. "I'm not a shrink, Jack. Do you want me to request a Unit psychiatrist?"

Jack shook his head. "Not yet. Not unless we have to." He got in the car.

"Let me know immediately if there are any problems," said Owen. "If he starts running a temperature you get him back here."

Jack nodded. "Understood. Wish me luck." The car pulled away.

"Good luck," murmured Owen. "You'll need it."


	15. Chapter 15

Jack drove through the outskirts of Cardiff, Ianto sitting next to him, gazing quietly out the window. Jack was considering a conversation he'd had with the Doctor shortly before he left the previous evening.

"I don't understand why the Master brought him home after all that," Jack said. "I can't imagine it was mercy."

"No," said the Doctor. "He just ended up being a bit too clever, that's all." Jack look puzzled, and the Doctor continued. "Ianto told us the Master called his plan his piece de resistance. He obviously had decided bringing him back here to be the finishing touch to his masterpiece. He had Ianto thoroughly convinced you were going to kill him, and trust me, I've been inside his head, Ianto had no doubt of that. So the Master was thinking you'd never know what happened, and all the time Ianto would be within reach. That was the finishing touch to his revenge. It might have worked, too, except for one thing. It never occurred to the Master that Ianto loves you so much he'd be willing to let you kill him if he thought it would make you happy."

Jack nodded. "Its … humbling." He was silent for a moment. "You've never said, but … could you tell … how long it was for him?"

"Not exactly," said the Doctor. "Maybe … eighteen months? I wouldn't say anything unless he asks, and I don't think he really wants to know." Jack nodded silently. "He'll be alright, Jack. He's very strong really."

Jack glanced at Ianto now, and said, "How are you?"

Ianto turned to look at him. "A bit tired."

"I can take you straight home if you like, and go into work later."

Ianto shook his head. "Time to stop hiding."

"We won't stay long."

"Hi Jack," said Gwen, as they entered, and then gaped. "Ianto!" She embraced him. "We've missed you! Wow, you need feeding."

Ianto smiled at her, as Jack sat him on the sofa. Tosh approached at that moment, and hugged him as well. "So good to see you," she said. "Welcome back!" Jack headed for Owen's lab, suggesting to the girls that if they had anything to report they ought to be ready when he came back. This made them scatter to their desks, for which Ianto was grateful.

Jack returned with Owen a few minutes later, and beckoned to Tosh and Gwen, talking to them as Owen went over to Ianto. "You're looking better than the last time I saw you."

Ianto smiled sheepishly. "That night seems a bit unreal now," he admitted.

"Roll up your sleeve, I need to take some more blood." He inserted a needle, and filled a few vials. "How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy," said Ianto. "I get tired really easily."

"Not surprised," said Owen. "Your last test results were a mess." He stood up. "Oi, Jack!" He pointed at Ianto. "Take him home, he's exhausted."

Back in the car, Ianto suddenly asked, "Who's been paying my rent?"

"Torchwood funds," said Jack.

"You mean you have," said Ianto. "Why not just put my stuff in storage?"

"You were coming back."

Ianto looked puzzled. "After you and the Doctor caught up with him, it … well, I wasn't coming back, not as far as you knew. That was six weeks before I did turn up, plenty of time to pack up my things."

They pulled into the carpark of Ianto's building. Jack turned off the engine, and turned to look at Ianto. "You were coming back," he repeated.

Ianto was touched. "You never gave up."

Jack shook his head. "I don't know if you'd call it intuition, a sixth sense, or just plain old denial. So many times, while I was sick, while we were looking for you, I didn't think I'd ever see you again. And yet when there was no hope, suddenly I just knew. You were coming back."

Ianto smiled at him. "Definitely denial."

Jack smirked. "I was right though, wasn't I?"

They leaned towards each other, and shared a lingering kiss. "Welcome home," said Jack.


End file.
